Faith
by Just Around the Corner
Summary: Ron/Hermione.... To love someone at the their worst rather then their best ... To never lose faith ...
1. I'm Not Crazy

Faith  
  
Ron was still coughing up blood. "Damn." He muttered as he threw the tissue in the trash can. He sat on his bed in the hospital Wing. Ginny was reading the Quibbler on Hermione's bed. It had been a week after their confrontation with Voldemort at the Ministry of Magic.  
  
"She hasn't waken up yet?" Luna asked, coming into the hospital wing.  
  
"Nope, that must've been some spell." Ginny said.  
  
Harry cringed as he remembered how Hermione had clinged to his arm; how he would blame himself if she had died. Madam Pomfrey said she would be alright, but she hadn't waken up. If it was an ordinary harming charm, she would've been awake by now. Her face was blank, her eyes were closed and her body was still. Her chest rose and sank as she breathed: the only indication that she was still alive.  
  
"She'll wake up." Ron said angrily.   
  
"Maybe not." Luna said, taking a seat.  
  
"What do you mean?" Ron snarled.  
  
"No need to get nasty." Luna said wispily. "Anything's possible. We all could've died. Do you know the odds of a few teenagers facing Voldemort and living? At least one of us has to die, the statistics are impossible if not."  
  
"Shutup, Luna." Ginny said, closing her magazine. "We're all fine, and Hermione will wake up. That's all there is to it." Her eyes narrowed. "And I wouldn't say anything else about her dying. Ron'll beat the shit of you do."  
  
"Point taken." Luna said.   
  
"Out of the way, children." Madam Pomfrey said. "Over here Headmaster."  
  
"Dumbledore?"   
  
The old man in elegant robes swept in the room, his face looking worried. His tired blue eyes focused on the sleeping Hermione.   
  
"How long has she been asleep?"  
  
"One week."  
  
"I see. What was the curse bestowed on her."  
  
"A common Harming Charm."  
  
"No." Dumbledore said. "A harming charm cannot knock out a person that long." He turned to Harry. "What color was it?"  
  
Harry was taken off guard at the question. What did the color matter? It was just a harming charm, she would wake up, or else Ron would completely go off the edge. He felt his stomach flip as he thought of the possiblities.   
  
"Purple." he answered.  
  
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows and looked down at Hermione. He put his milky white hand on her forehead, as if to feel for a fever.  
  
"She hasn't got a fever, Headmaster. But the slash does scrape across her heart." Madam Pomfrey supplied.  
  
Dumbledore ripped his hand away from Hermione's forehead. He was shocked at this new information.  
  
"Are you sure it was purple?"  
  
"Yes, sir. It was even a bit of fushia." Neville said.  
  
"Then, I'm afraid, it's not a harming charm; but something much greater and destructive."  
  
"What?" Ron asked, standing up.  
  
"It is a good possibillity that Miss Granger has been hit with the Cruciatus Curse."  
  
"That's not possible!" Neville protested. "The Cruciatus Curse is a black beam of light!"  
  
"Not always." Dumbledore replied. "There are two types. There is the curse that engulfs the body, and there is the curse that is directed at one specific part of the body. It must be perfectly performed in order for it to work properly."  
  
"That's not possible! I was hit with that same spell!" Harry said. "And I'm alright!"  
  
"The Curse must be run over the heart before it could work." Dumbledore touched the scar running down the side of Harry's face. "If the spell would have continued, it would've run over your heart."  
  
"No! It's not true!" Ron yelled, covering his ears. "I'm not going to listen! Hermione WILL be alright!"  
  
"I can wake her up, if you like. But, people affected with the curse can remember only one or two people. They will become dependant on those people."  
  
"So she'll only remember her parents?" Ron asked.  
  
"Not necessarily. She will likely remember the last person she saw, or the last person she thought of."  
  
Dumbeldore pulled his wand out of his robes and tapped Hermione's forehead lightly. A blue vapor came out of the tip and Hermione stirred. She sat up slowly and looked around her. Her eyes looked lost, as if she had amnesia. She looked around her, at every person. She lay back down and pulled the covers over her head, as if she had given up.  
  
"Hermione..." Harry said softly.  
  
Hermione pulled the covers off her and gazed up at Harry. She studied him, cocking her head curiously. She closed her eyes for a few seconds and opened them again. She leaned closer to him and stared straight into his eyes. An odd smile formed on her face, as if she was a tiny child, just realizing that the world was a sphere.  
  
"Harry..." She whispered.  
  
"Does she?" Harry backed away. "Remember me?"  
  
"Then she'll remember me!" Neville exclaimed. "Look at me Hermione! Do you remember?"  
  
Hermione looked distantly at Neville. She looked away quickly and started to ring her hands nervously. She closed her eyes, as if she was wishing all of the non-existent memories away from her; away from the world.  
  
"Am I the only person that she remembers?" Harry asked.  
  
"Apparently so, Harry." Dumbledore answered.   
  
"Why doesn't she remember me?" Neville moaned. "I was there!"   
  
"Relax, Neville. You're not worth remembering." Ron said.  
  
"Ron!" Ginny exclaimed.  
  
"Oh, and you think she'll remember you?" Neville walked very close to Ron. He stood a few inches shorter then Ron, who was the tallest boy in Gryffindor.  
  
"More of a chance then you." Ron sniggered and left the hospital wing.  
  
Hermione kept watching him. Her eyes seemed locked on Ron as he walked away. Her ears only recognized the sound of his clicking shoes down the hall.  
  
The grandfather clock strummed midnight with a mighty bellow. Hermione was still awake, staring into space. Her mind was searching: searching for the memories that weren't there anymore, searching for the thoughts that had blown away with the wind.  
  
"Hullo, Hermione." Ron whispered.  
  
Hermione's head didn't move, just kept staring, as if she hadn't moved.  
  
"Everyone's spreading a rumor that you're crazy now. But I know the truth. Look at me, Hermione." He gently moved Hermione's head towards him.  
  
"I don't care if you don't care if you remember me or not." He said. "But you have to listen to me, you have to listen to this one thing. Do you understand?"  
  
Hermione nodded strangely, which surprised Ron, who didn't really expect a response.  
  
"You are not crazy. You are a beautiful brilliant person. Hermione, your smarter then anyone in this school. Do you hear? Don't EVER let anyone tell you that you're crazy. No one. You are the smartest, prettiest, funniest person I know."  
  
Hermione's gray eyes kept staring at him, taking it all in. Had she been sane, she would have laughed at Ron and said, "I know." But, she wasn't.  
  
"Do you understand?"  
  
Hermione reached out her hand and touched Ron's cheek vaguely. He felt her cold hand on his skin and closed his eyes, as if he was treasuring that moment. She moved her hand up and into his messed up red hair.   
  
"Hermione? What's wrong?" he asked.  
  
"Ron..." She whispered.  
  
"You--" He said in surprise. "You remember?"  
  
She did her strange nod again and looked away.  
  
"I'm not crazy." She whispered.   
  
"You--listened?" Ron scratched his head. "You aren't crazy, I don't know what the others are thinking." He shook his head. "Hermione, I'm so happy you remember!"  
  
As if possesed, Ron put his arms around Hermione. He stayed there for a moment, inhaling the scent of her. She smelled of medicine, but something different. She was wearing the perfume he had bought her for Christmas. He smiled a little. To his surprise, she brought her arms around and put them on his back.  
  
She was hugging him back.  
  
"Hermione," He pulled away. "I'll find a way to show everyone you're not crazy. I'll show them all!"  
  
He smiled at her and kissed her on the forehead. She gazed at him and something strange happened, an awkward little smile came to her moth. Ron smiled even wider and ran out of the Hospital Wing.  
  
"Harry, wake up!" Ron shook Harry in his bed.  
  
"Shutup, Ron. Let me sleep." Harry turned over.  
  
"Harry! Hermione's not crazy!"   
  
"I know, I know, you've been telling anyone who would listen since yesterday, now leave me alone."   
  
"No, really! I went to the Hospital Wing and she REMEMBERED me and then, oh you won't believe it Harry, she talked back to me!"  
  
Harry sat up for a minute and looked at Ron. "Look Ron, I want Hermione to not be crazy as much as you do, but we have to face the facts. The Cruciatus Curse, it completely destroyed her mind."  
  
"You just don't get it, do you? Hermione isn't crazy! If you're her friend, you'd know that."  
  
"Ron...Ok, fine. We'll talk to her in the morning. We'll skip breakfast and 'talk' to Hermione."   
  
"Fine."   
  
Ron got up from Harry's bed and started to walk away.   
  
"Where are you going now?"  
  
"I can't sleep after this. I need to talk to her more." Ron said.  
  
"Whatever." Harry mumbled and went back to sleep.  
  
Ron walked back out of the Gryffindor Common Room, careful not to wake the fat lady in the portrait. She snored loudly as he left. He was about to head back to the hospital wing when he heard Filch's craggy voice.  
  
"Who's there? Who's up at this hour?"  
  
"Shit." Ron whispered.   
  
"Go find him, Mrs. Norris."  
  
Ron heard a cat meow and he looked around in panic. There was a door a few feet away; towards Filch's voice. Feverently he ran into it and shut the door quickly, but quietly. He dared not breathe until he heard Filch pass.  
  
"Must've been a dream. Come on, Mrs. Norris."  
  
Ron sighed in relief and looked in the room where he was. He was in the trophy room. He looked around at all the different names. He smiled broadly when he saw his.  
  
"Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter. Special Services to the School." he read aloud.  
  
The plaques were shiny and seemed to wink up at him in their gold finish.  
  
"Hermione..." He whispered faintly.   
  
Turning around he saw something he hadn't seen since first year. A long mirror, with strange writing across the top. He knew what it was at first site. The mirror of Erised. It showed him what he wanted most in the world. Slowly, he walked to it and looked at his reflection. For a few seconds, he could see only himself, but then someone stepped into view.  
  
"Hermione." Ron looked behind him, but all he saw were the trophies.   
  
Hermione smiled at him and carried a book in her arms. She leaned her head on his shoulder and seemed to look at his reflection with him. Harry stepped into view. He stepped between Hermione and him and put an arm around both of them. His reflection smiled and put an arm around of each of them. The three of them laughed started to playfully push each other.   
  
I'd do anything to be that guy, Ron thought. I'd give up every knut I have if I could just be him one more time.   
  
He felt the tears rush into his eyes.   
  
Boys don't cry, He thought angrily.   
  
Hermione and Harry slowly faded away and all that was left was Ron, staring into the mirror.   
  
"Hermione..." Ron reached into the mirror to grab her hand, only to meet cool glass.   
  
"Ron?" Harry came in the room with the Invisibility Cloak around him. "You really need to come to bed."  
  
"Harry, this is the mirror."   
  
"Mirror?" Harry came around and looked at the Mirror that Ron was looking in.   
  
"You know," Ron said. "I'd do anything to be the guy in this mirror." He laughed slightly. "I guess that's the purpose of it, right?"  
  
"Ron, what do you see?"  
  
"I see," He looked into it. Hermione returned and put her arms around him. She smiled at him, showing off her perfect teeth. "I see Hermione. She's happy...and laughing."  
  
"Ron..." Harry said.  
  
"What do you see?" He asked, backing away.  
  
"You know what I always see." Harry said. "I always see my parents." He walked up the mirror. His parents were still there, smiling at him, same as they did in his first year. His father's smile was almost apologetic.   
  
"Harry, I have a great idea!" Ron said.  
  
"What?"   
  
"We should bring Hermione here."  
  
"Ron, I don't think that'd be a good idea."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"This only shows us what we want. If Hermione sees it, she might think it's the real thing."  
  
"Oh, yeah." Ron said, sounding disappointed.  
  
"It's almost morning. We could go see Hermione now, if you want."  
  
"Ok." Ron said, he sounded a bit distraught. He wanted to feel Hermione's arms around him. He tore his eyes away from the mirror and ran to catch up to Harry.  
  
They were the only ones up. Although it was only five o' clock, the students were allowed to be up and about, but most were not. Ron always kept a few feet ahead of Harry. He walked so fast that Harry had to almost run to keep up.   
  
When did he get such long legs? Harry thought.   
  
"Hermione, we're back!" Ron went straight to Hermione's bed.   
  
"Hello, young man." Hermione's mother said.  
  
Hermione's parents were sitting on Hermione's bed. Dumbledore stood at the foot of it, smiling sadly at the couple.   
  
"Do you remember us? Hermione, baby. You have to!" Hermione's mother took Hermione by the shoulders. "Hermione Granger! My little Hermy!"  
  
Hermione looked lost and hopeless as she looked at the woman who had a hold of her. She lay back down, and turned away from the people.  
  
"Why doesn't she remember me?" Mrs. Granger was in tears. "Mister Dumbledore! Why doesn't she?"  
  
"That, I cannot answer." Dumbledore said solemnly. "Perhaps the person she does remember has the answer." He nodded towards Harry.  
  
"She was holding on to me, on the arm." Harry started, trying not to look Hermione's mother in the eye. "She remembers me, but not the other boy I was with, Neville."  
  
"But, why you and not me?" She moaned. Harry was reminded of Neville whining the previous day.  
  
"I dunno."  
  
"Ron..." Hermione whispered.  
  
"What was that, little one?" Hermione's mother looked towards her daughter.  
  
Ron looked at Hermione and smiled.   
  
"You remember him? The one with red hair?" Hermione's mother asked her.  
  
Ron stood beside Hermione's bed.   
  
"Perhaps, she was thinking of Mister Weasley at the time she was cursed."   
  
Harry's brain did a flip-flop. He felt inside his pocket and felt the piece of paper was still there.   
  
~-~-~-~-~-~-  
  
"Harry, can I ask you something?" Hermione asked.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Well, what's it like, I mean how does, you know." She stuttered.  
  
Harry raised his eyebrows.   
  
"Well, to be in love. What's it like?"   
  
"Erm--" Harry was alarmed at the random question. "Why are you asking me?"  
  
"Weren't you in love with Cho?"  
  
"I don't think that was love. Of course, I don't know what love feels like, so it might've been."  
  
"Well, how did you feel when you were with Cho?"  
  
"Angry."  
  
"That's not..." Hermione's voice drifted away. "When you kissed her, what was it like?"  
  
"I don't kiss and tell." Harry smiled slyly.  
  
"Oh, come on, Harry!"  
  
"Well, it felt...wet." He said, laughing.  
  
"Harry! You are possibly the worst advice giver in the world."  
  
"Well, you're the one that usually gives Ron and I advice. What I want to know, why is the master asking me for advice?"  
  
"Because--because you're a boy!"  
  
"Why, yes I am." Harry snickered.  
  
"Harry, you're just like Ron! Now, take me seriously for once."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"He just makes me so mad. But, I really like him, but sometimes I really really hate him. Sometimes I want to kill him. Somtimes i want to kiss him. I hate the way he's always standing up for me. BUt I can't help but feel a bit of pride when he does. Am I making sense?"  
  
"No."  
  
"What doesn't make sense?" She asked angrily.   
  
"The part about liking Ron."  
  
Hermione flushed a bright red. "I never said--"  
  
"You didn't have to." Harry smiled.   
  
"He's just so stubborn!" Hermione moaned.  
  
"But you still fell in love with him."  
  
"Well, sometimes he can be really sweet. I mean, he's always trying to protect me against Malfoy and Viktor and..."  
  
"Hermione, why don't you tell him?"  
  
"Tell him?! Harry, have you lost your mind?" Hermione shrieked.  
  
"No, it's still there. But how's he ever going to know."  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"I'll tell him."   
  
"NO! If you say anything I'll curse you!"  
  
"But Hermione!"  
  
"Oh, Harry! You left your quicknotes on!" Hermione said.  
  
"I don't think it's a bad thing. I could give Ron this conversation one day. That way you don't have to tell him."  
  
"Oh, alright. Just, not when I'm around okay?"  
  
"At dinner then?"  
  
"NO! Harry! That's too soon. Do it when, do it when you think the time is right."  
  
"How will I know?"  
  
"You're his best friend, you'll know when."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Oh, turn your Quicknotes off! The pen's running out of ink!"  
  
~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-  
  
"Harry? What's wrong?" Ron was looking at Harry whose eyes were loking dazed from his memory.   
  
"Oh, nothing, I was just, thinking." Harry said distantly.  
  
"Well, I'm glad they're taking her away today. She really needs Medical Help." Hermione's mother stroked her hair softly.  
  
"What? They can't take her away!" Ron protested.  
  
"Young man, I am aware that my daughter remembers you, but it is not for you to decide what's best for her." Hermione's father spoke up.  
  
"She's not crazy! She's perfectly sane! If you put her in a Nut House, that's what'll make her crazy, don't you see?" Ron shouted at them.  
  
"But Ron, it's a curse--"  
  
"I don't care if it's a damn curse! Hermione's not crazy! She'll tell you! Go on, Hermione! Tell them!"  
  
Hermione looked at him blankly for a minute. She held his wrist with her left hand.   
  
"I'm not crazy..." she whispered.   
  
"See! There you go! She's not crazy! You heard it from her own mouth!" Ron exclaimed.  
  
"Ron, you can teach parrots to talk, but that doesn't mean they know what they're saying." Luna said, walking into the room.  
  
"Are you comparing Hermione to a dumb bird?" Ron challenged.  
  
"You are the touchiest person I've ever met." Luna narrowed her eyes.   
  
Hermione leaned her head against Ron's arm and gazed away from the people, towards the window. The clouds hung ominously in the sky, threatning for rain.   
  
"Mister Dumbledore, I think we'll take our leave." Hermione's father said hastily.  
  
Hermione watched as her parents shuffled out of the room. The two people that everyone expected she remember, she didn't. Instead the two people that everyone thought she would forget she remembered. Hermione looked contented, in a strange sort of way. A blank expression was on her face, but she didn't look like she wanted anything, nor did she look like she had everything she wanted.  
  
"Mister Weasley," Dumbledore said. "Would you escort Miss Granger to the Great Hall?"  
  
Ron only then noticed Hermione was wearing her school uniform. She looked up at Harry expectantly, as if she was wanting him to explain everything that was going on.   
  
"Come on, Hermione." Ron said. He gave no thought as to why he was to take Hermione to the Great Hall.  
  
Hermione clung to Ron's arm as if her life depended on it. She could still walk like a normal person, but if Ron's arm slipped, she would've been lost.   
  
Harry walked in front of them. The first thing he saw was a crowd of students waiting for them. He cursed Luna for spreading a stupid rumor that Hermione was insane and was going to be shipped to St. Mungo's for life. The next thing he saw were three men and a woman. They all stood six feet tall, about the same as Ron. The men wore white robes and their muscles bulged underneath them. The woman was no less petite. Her muscles, if possible, were even bigger. She had an malignant grin.  
  
"Look, it's her!" The students hushed as Hermione came into view.  
  
"What's going on?" Ron demanded of Dumbledore, who stood with the three men and woman.  
  
"Miss Granger will have to be taken to St. Mungo's for--"  
  
"No way!" Ron yelled. "She isn't crazy! St. Mungo's is for crazy people. You aren't taking her there! Over my dead body you are!"   
  
The woman approached Ron and looked him square in the eye. She smiled and looked to Hermione, who was only five and half feet.   
  
"Come on darling." She had an Irish Accent. "Come with me."  
  
"Get away from her!" Ron backed up, pushing Hermione with unintentional force.   
  
Unknowingly a man in white pulled Hermione away from Ron. Ron whirled around to face him and was immediatly restrained by Professor Snape. He struggled with all he had to get free. Harry was restrained by Filch when he went to help Ron.   
  
"Let go, you stupid hawk-nosed git!" Ron yelled.  
  
Hermione looked around nervously. Her grey eyes darted from face to face, not finding a familiar one to hold on to. She was lost, she was unguarded. She had no one to touch, no one to feel, no one was real to her.   
  
"Harry!" She yelled, finally.  
  
She started to run towards Harry. A sharp jerk stopped her at once. The woman was restraining her. Hermione kicked and screamed like a truly insane person.  
  
"Harry! Ron!" She screamed.  
  
"Let go of her you stupid transexual woman!" Ron screamed.   
  
Harry almost laughed at Ron's insult.   
  
"I'm afraid this girl needs to come with us."  
  
"She's not crazy!"  
  
"Little boy, are you aware that no person has recovered from the Cruciatus Curse? What makes you think this little girl will even stand a chance?"  
  
"The fact that her brain is bigger then yours!" Ron yelled.  
  
"That's enough disrespect from you!" Snape spat. "You have detention for the rest of the year."  
  
"I don't give a damn, just let me go!" Snape seemed to have trouble holding Ron.  
  
"Let her go!" Harry yelled. Although he wasn't truly sure that Hermione was as Ron said she was, he had faith that she wasn't crazy.  
  
"What the hell is wrong with you gits?!" Ron screamed. "She's perfectly sane!"  
  
Hermione had stopped struggling. Her eyes gained the withdrawn, forlorn look again. She looked away from them all, towards the door. Her lips moved, but no one could hear her over Ron's yelling of insults. She shut her eyes, as if she was trying to block it all out.  
  
"I'm not crazy!" She yelled.  
  
The room went dead silent. Every pair of eyes was on Hermione who was still struggling.   
  
Ron finally broke the silence. "See? What more do you need?"  
  
"You fool!" Snape spat. "You trained her to say that! Don't you know that you're just going to prolong her agony?"  
  
"I didn't ask you, you grease haired worm!" Ron yelled. "Just let her go!"   
  
The woman started to pull Hermione away. She was no longer struggling, but tripping over herself. She gazed at Ron, who was still struggling.   
  
She looks like a little girl, Harry thought. Being led away by her mother.   
  
"HERMIONE!" Ron screamed at the top of his lungs.   
  
Hermione looked back once and gave Ron her odd little smile.   
  
She doesn't deserve it, Ron thought. I'll kill those stupid muscle heads one by one.  
  
Finally, Ron broke free of Snape's grip. He ran out of the giant double doors and into the thunderstorm.  
  
"Hermione!" He screamed.   
  
The Hogwarts Express was already pulling away, bound for St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Ron's heart seemed to wrench at the train. He sank down in the rain, knowing that every attempt he made after this would be impossible. He couldn't bring her back.  
  
"Dammit!" He yelled. The rain beat down on him, so he cried. Hermione was not crazy. He'd prove it to the world. "I'll prove it!" He yelled after the disappearing train. "You watch!" 


	2. Visiting Hours

Visiting Hours  
  
Hermione sat very still in her private room. The vase of daisies was wilting next to her, not that she ever looked at it. Her doctor looked at her hopelessly.  
  
"Please, dear. You have to try to talk."  
  
Hermione remained silent, eyes still focusing on one the one thing that wasn't there.   
  
"Alright, maybe you'll talk after you've seen your visitors." He sighed.  
  
"Hermione?" Ron came in and smiled broadly.  
  
The doctor left and gave Harry and Ron an expectant glance.  
  
Hermione looked towards Harry and Ron and gave a quirky smile that they recognized as their Hermione's. Ron handed her a picture frame. She stared at it strangely, watching the three torsos wave at her and smile  
  
"It's when we were in first year. You can look at it when we're not here." Harry said.  
  
Hermione smiled broadly and placed it on her nightstand, next to the withered flowers. She looked at it for a minute on her nightstand and then looked at Ron and Harry again. Ron sat down next to Hermione on her bed. Harry sat awkwardly in the chair the doctor had been in, feeling oddly like he was imposing on the two.  
  
"It's awful, isn't it?" Ron asked her. "They've kept you here, all cooped up; not even a window." He looked around the room.  
  
"Hmm..." Hermione said. Ron knew that she understood.  
  
"Everyone at school keeps calling you crazy." Harry laughed a little. "And Ron keeps knocking their lights out. Don't think they'll be any boys left in Slytherin when he's through."   
  
Ron laughed too. "S'not my fault there's so many gits in that school."   
  
Hermione kept her same odd quirky smile as they talked. Maybe she was comprehending it, maybe not. But one thing was sure, she was at her happiest with Harry and Ron.  
  
"Excuse me?" The Nurse opened the door. "Another visitor?"  
  
"Who?" Ron asked as he stood up. Hermione looked up at him.   
  
"Me." A heavily accented voice said. Harry watched Ron's face turn red.  
  
"Get lost." He said. "Don't you have a Quidditch Game to lose?"  
  
Viktor shrugged, keeping his eyes on Hermione. "I need to talk to her. Alone, please."  
  
"No way!" Ron said. Hermione grabbed Ron's wrist. He recognized this as her sign of fear, or being uncomfortable. "Go molest some other teenager."  
  
"Ron." Harry protested. "A few minutes wouldn't hurt."   
  
"But, Harry! He's just a stupid git!"  
  
"Everyone's a git to you these days." Harry's eyes narrowed. "Five minutes." He said to Viktor angrily.  
  
"And not a second over, you stupid git."   
  
"Thank you." Viktor said gratefully. Ron and Harry left, closing the door behind them.   
  
"What do you think he's doing?" Ron asked, leaning against the opposite, wall, watching the door, and wishing he had X-ray vision.  
  
"Talking to her." Harry shrugged. "And getting no answers."  
  
They stood there, listening to the muffled sound of Viktor's voice talking to Hermione intently.   
  
"It's been five minutes." Ron glanced at his watch. " I'm going--"  
  
Hermione's scream filled the entire hallway. She ran out the door and clung to Harry in fear. Harry almost jumped in surprise, but stopped himself and positioned it so Hermione was behind him. She did have an awfully tight grip.  
  
"What the hell did you do?" Ron asked angrily, glaring at Viktor.  
  
"I told her I loved her." Viktor's eyes were tearing.   
  
"What?!" Ron was on Viktor in a second. He pushed him against the wall. "What the hell is wrong with you?"  
  
"And I tried to kiss her." Viktor looked away, as if ashamed by his tears. "And she ran away before I could."  
  
"Where the hell do you get off? Molesting her was one thing, and now your trying to do it when she's under a curse? Think that'll give you the advantage, don't you?" Ron had a strangling hold on Viktor's neck. "We'll I've got news, buddy. Not while I'm here. So go on and find yourself some Bulgarian nine-year-old to molest. You aren't ever coming near Hermione Granger again."   
  
"Ron, let go of him." Harry hissed. He wasn't able to move, since Hermione was holding a bit too tight.  
  
"Get out of here." Ron said angrily, throwing Viktor down onto the ground. "Come on Hermione." Ron extended his hand to her.  
  
Hermione clung to his arm and he brought her back in the room. Ron kept glaring at Viktor.   
  
"Sorry 'bout him. He's just a little protective." Harry said, helping Viktor up.  
  
"I was going to ask her to marry me, when she was out of school." Viktor said. "She's the first one I've ever loved." He shrugged. "I guess things just didn't work out." He smiled at Harry. "Thank you, for everything."   
  
"Viktor..."  
  
"Tell her I said goodbye." He started to walk down the hall, his shoes making an strange squeaking noise. Harry felt oddly sorry for him, even though he'd like to punch him, too for trying to kiss Hermione.  
  
~-~-~-~-  
  
Hermione was smiling again. She looked at the picture frame and kept smiling, as if it was she in the picture at that moment. As if the picture frame was a mirror, and it was her that was smiling up at the cursed girl. Ron stared at her, hand on her shoulder.  
  
"Oh, before I forget." Ron said abruptly. "Harry and I brought you some pajamas. Don't want you staying in those musty old St. Mungo's ones."  
  
Ron took out a parcel from his robes. He unwrapped it and a pair of boy's pajamas with the Hogwarts insignia lay inside.   
  
"The shirt is mine." Harry explained. "And the pants are Ron's."  
  
Hermione looked at them oddly. She picked up the shirt and held it to her nose. She inhaled its scent and smiled, satisfied.   
  
"Would you like me to help you change into those?" The nurse said.  
  
Hermione didn't respond, as if she hadn't heard her voice.  
  
"Sure." Ron answered for her.   
  
"She is a girl, you know." The nurse said. "You'll need to leave the room."  
  
Ron turned pink and stuttered a "Yes ma'am."  
  
"Right." Harry said.  
  
They both left and went back into the hallway.   
  
"She doesn't deserve it." Ron whispered.  
  
"I know, Ron. I want her out of there as much as you."  
  
"No, Harry, you don't!" Ron said angrily. "I mean, it's like, I have to get her out! I mean, it's like I can't live with her in that room! I can't go to sleep at night when I think of her, all alone in there, with nothing but wilted flowers!"  
  
"Ron." Harry suddenly reached for the piece of paper in his pocket (A/N: see previous chapter). He brought it out and opened it and stared at the neat handwriting that he had trained his quill to do for him.   
  
"What's that?" Ron asked, wiping his eyes.  
  
"It's--" Harry stopped. It's not the right time, he thought. "Nothing." He put it back in his pocket.  
  
"What did she do to deserve it, Harry?" Ron asked again.  
  
"Nothing, Ron. She didn't do anything." Harry answered obediently.  
  
"If I'd been with you and Neville and Hermione, I'd have killed that stupid Death Eater right there." Ron said, clenching his fist.  
  
"It's more my fault then anyone else's." Harry sighed. "Hermione was clinging to my arm. She was so close to me."  
  
Ron didn't respond, just looked at the ceiling.   
  
"I'm going to prove it to the world one day."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I'm going to prove that Hermione's not crazy. She's going to be the only person that ever recovers from the Curse. I'll make sure of it."  
  
"But how?"  
  
"I'll find a way." Ron said defiantly. "I don't care if it takes my whole lifetime."  
  
"Seventh year is almost over..." Harry commented, wanting to change the subject.  
  
"You know." Ron said happily, apparently forgetting about Hermione. "I'm going to try out for the Chudley Cannons. I'm going to become a Quidditch Superstar."   
  
"I could try out for the Seeker on that team." Harry said.  
  
"And we'd bring Hermione to every game."   
  
"But would her doctor--"  
  
"Oh, forget about that crazy--"  
  
"Git." Harry finished for him. "You really need to think of a new word."  
  
"We'd put her in a seat of honor." Ron continued. "It'll be great."  
  
Harry didn't want to remind Ron of the fact that Quidditch Teams travel all over the world and rarely return to their hometown. He didn't tell him that playing Quidditch would mean leaving Hermione, rather then spending more time with her.  
  
The door opened and the Nurse invited them back in. Ron's smile reached from ear to ear when he saw Hermione. The pajamas were too big, nevertheless, she stood there, and smiling broadly and looking at them as if they were the most beautiful evening gown she had ever worn.  
  
"Hermione, you look stunning." Ron said.   
  
"You're all ready for the Yule Ball." Harry laughed.  
  
Ron went silent for a minute and just stared at Hermione with a thought-provoked look in his eyes.   
  
"The Yule Ball..." He said faintly.   
  
"Visiting Hours are over." the nurse said, opening the door.   
  
"No! Just one more hour!" Ron begged.  
  
"You boys have been asking that for the last two years and the answer is still no. Now, out!" the nurse said.  
  
"Oh, alright." Ron said angrily. "G'bye Hermione."  
  
Saying goodbye to Hermione every Saturday was the hardest thing Ron could ever imagine doing. She clung to his arm, as if he was taking her somewhere. He gently took her arm off of his and smiled apologetically. He kissed her on the forehead as her smile faded and she looked lost again. Ron followed Harry down the hallway, towards the door.  
  
"I don't understand, what did--"  
  
"Ron!" Harry shouted. "She didn't do anything, okay! She was an innocent bystander willing to give her life, okay? She was brave and clever and smart and she didn't deserve it! I let her get hit, so I'd appreciate it if you stopped rubbing it in."   
  
"Sorry, Harry." Ron said.   
  
And with a loud crack, they apparated back to Platform Nine and Three-quarters just in time to catch the Hogwarts Express.  
  
Back in the Gryffindor Common Room, Ron was in deep thought.  
  
"How's Hermione?" Ginny asked.  
  
"She's alright." Harry answered.  
  
"How's Ron?" Ginny stared at her brother, who was looking blankly into the distance, his look resembling Hermione's.  
  
"He's a big disgruntled." Harry glanced over to him.   
  
"Do you think that Dumbeldore'll let Hermione come back to Hogwarts for the Yule Ball?" He asked suddenly.  
  
"He would. But what about all those doctors?"  
  
"Will you forget about the damn--"  
  
"Gits." Ginny finished.   
  
"Actually," Ron narrowed his eyes. "I was going to say doctors. But, forget about them. This would be Hermione's seventh year, and she'd miss out on everything, her Yule Ball, Graduation, saying goodbye. It's not fair."   
  
"No one said life was fair, Ron." Harry said, thinking suddenly about Cedric Diggory.  
  
"What if we could just bring her back for the Yule Ball?" Ron asked.  
  
"You did ruin her time in Fourth Year, she never really had a good time at a dance before." Ginny sighed. "She never got to dance with the boy she loved."  
  
Harry glared at Ginny dangerously. 'Shut-up!' His look said. Ron raised his eyebrows.  
  
"I thought she loved that Bulgar."   
  
"Not even close to it, Ron." Ginny looked at Ron and stifled a laugh. "Although I don't know what she sees in the boy she does love." Ginny walked, away, laughing hysterically at whatever she had said.  
  
"Think they'd stick her in St. Mungo's instead of Hermione?" Harry asked.  
  
"Probably not." Ron shrugged.   
  
~-~-~-~-  
  
"Hermione! Hermione!" Ron rushed into the hospital room, passed the Squib Nurse, who was clearly taken by surprise at being shoved out of the way.  
  
"We've got great news!" Harry chimed after him.  
  
"Here!" Ron handed her periwinkle blue robes.   
  
She cocked her head to the side and stared at them. Finally she recognized them as her dress robes.   
  
"Dumbeldore said you could come to Yule Ball!"   
  
"Yule ball..." She said faintly, the same way Ron had. She shook her head and turned away. She lay back down on her bed and faced the wall. This was her sign of withdrawal.  
  
"Oh, come on, Hermione, don't be like that!" Ron pleaded. "This time, it'll be different."  
  
"No."  
  
"Hermione, please!" Ron paused for a minute. "I--I want you to go with me to the Yule Ball."  
  
Hermione sat up and looked at Ron curiously. Her eyes looked as if she had remembered something bad from her memory and she wanted to put it back where she found it and never bring it back again.  
  
"No." She said firmer. She closed her eyes and tears escaped from them.   
  
"Hermione, I'm sorry about Fourth year." Ron said. "I really am. Listen, if I could do one thing over it'd be that! Hermione!"  
  
Hermione threw her arms around Ron and started to sob. Her whole body shook with sobs.  
  
"Hermione." Ron made a clumsy attempt at humor. "I've heard of girls being oversensitive, but this is ridiculous!"  
  
"No, Ron."   
  
"Ron, I think I know why she doesn't want to go." Harry said.   
  
"Why?" Ron had put his arms around Hermione, no longer feeling awkward.   
  
"She can't remember anyone but us, right? So, that would mean she would remember you rejecting her at the Yule Ball."  
  
"I did not reject her!" Ron said angrily.  
  
"Well, that's how she saw it. So, if she only remembers us two, she can't remember why you rejected her. So, that would lead her to the conclusion that something was wrong with her."  
  
"Have you been reading her notes again?" Ron asked, narrowing his eyes.  
  
"No, it's just that," Harry chose his words carefully. "Even if she did remember all the people at the Yule Ball, she still took what you said about her to heart."  
  
"That's ridiculous. Hermione's not like that."  
  
"How would you know, Ron? The only Hermione you ever knew was the one you fought with on a daily basis."  
  
"And I suppose you knew a different one? Has she gone and cloned herself?"  
  
"She told me things that you would never dream of hearing from her." Harry smiled.   
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Not now." Harry said.   
  
"Yes now!" Ron protested.  
  
"I have a better idea then you two going to the Yule Ball." Harry said. He waved his wand and made an old record player appear.  
  
"What the hell is that?" Ron asked.   
  
"It's a record player." Harry said. "It plays music. He put in a record and started to play it.  
  
Harry picked up Hermione's dress robes. He helped her put them on top of her pajamas. She smiled in satisfaction as she looked at her ensemble.  
  
"There, your very own Yule Ball." Harry said.   
  
The nurse could be heard banging on the door.  
  
"What is going on in there? You're making a racket!"  
  
"Sorry, Squib." Ron yelled back, locking the door. He bowed deeply to Hermione who blushed. "May I have this dance?"  
  
She nodded eagerly and he took her hand. Ron just looked at her awkwardly for a minute and turned to Harry.   
  
"Harry, I just remember. I have no bloody idea how to dance." He said.   
  
Harry laughed. "It's easy, you just, kind of, erm--" He stopped, remembering he had no idea how to dance either. "Hermione knows, doesn't she?"  
  
"No." She shrugged and smiled at Ron, who just kept holding her hand awkwardly.  
  
"Well, this is beautiful. This must be a first; the first Yule Ball where none of the guests knew how to dance."   
  
Harry smiled. "Cho explained it to me once, when she had stopped crying for a minute."  
  
He walked up to Ron and took his hand.  
  
"Harry." Hermione giggled.   
  
"Okay, so you put your hand on her waist, like this." Harry explained awkwardly.   
  
"You're the girl?" Ron asked in surprise.   
  
"Bear with me, here." Harry said. "And you just move your feet."  
  
Hermione was laughing hysterically now, holding her stomach and sitting on the floor.  
  
"And just what's so funny? I'm doing this for you, you know." Ron said.  
  
"Harry, Ron, Hermione!" Ginny pranced into the door, smiling. "Mum and I came to visit Hermione. What the hell are you gits doing?" Ginny screamed.  
  
Ron immediately pulled away from Harry, blushing madly.  
  
"We're not gay, we swear!" Harry yelled.  
  
"Do that again, I want to take a picture!" Ginny reached into her bag to get a camera. "Go on!"  
  
"Not on your life, Ginny Weasley!" Ron yelled angrily.   
  
"I never thought Ron would be a homo!" Ginny squealed in excitement.  
  
"Ginny, Harry was just teaching me how to dance." Ron said. "And for your information, young lady, you are intruding on our Yule Ball."  
  
"Yule Ball?" Ginny asked. "Oh, I see." She said, looking at Hermione in her dress robes.   
  
Ron bowed deeply to Hermione. "May I have this dance."  
  
"Yes." Hermione smiled. Her tired gray eyes seemed to forget that she was in a Nut House. It was as if she was making new memories for herself to cherish and to replace the ones she had lost.  
  
Ron took her hand and put his hand on her waist. She giggled slightly.  
  
"Stop laughing will you? People are really going to think you're crazy."  
  
"Not crazy..." She said, amused.   
  
Ginny smiled at them. Mrs. Weasley walked in with a bag of something. She smiled widely when she saw Ron and Hermione. She sighed.   
  
"Ginny, dear, take a picture, will you?"   
  
"Yes, mum."   
  
Ginny focused the camera carefully, careful not to alert Hermione and Ron who were completely oblivious to everyone around them. The record ended and Hermione threw her arms around Ron.   
  
"Thank you." She whispered.   
  
Ron, who was completely taken by surprise by A. Hermione had enjoyed his horrible dancing, and B. That his mother was standing there. He smiled and put his arms around Hermione.  
  
"Anytime, 'Mione." Ron smiled.  
  
"Oh, dear." Mrs. Weasley walked over and hugged Hermione. "You're so tall you know that? Now, don't you worry, you're going to get out of here someday." She patted Hermione's cheeks. "You really are a beautiful girl."  
  
Hermione looked at Mrs. Weasley as if she remembered her. She touched her red hair and drew her hand back. She smiled softly.  
  
"You look like Ron." She said smiling.  
  
Ron turned a bright shade of red. Mrs. Weasley looked incredibly touched. She patted Hermione's hand.  
  
"Ron's right, dear. You aren't crazy, you just aren't!" She hugged Hermione again. "Well, Ginny and I just stopped in for a quick visit. Come along, Ginny."   
  
Ginny followed Mrs. Weasley obediently out the door and into the hallway. Ron looked at Hermione sadly. His gaze looked different about her. Harry couldn't explain it, but there was something funny about it. He looked as if, he was really thinking about; as if he was almost fantasizing about her.   
  
Harry shook his head. Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger? Clearly possible before, but while Hermione was under this curse? How could Ron ever fall in love with an insane person whenever girl in Gryffindor was after him? He was tall, he played Quidditch and he was a prefect, what more did a girl need?   
  
"Stop staring, Harry. Didn't anyone ever tell you its rude?" Ron punched Harry in the arm playfully.  
  
Harry reached into his pocket and grabbed the paper again, as if he was going to give it to Ron. It's not the right time, it's not the right time, a voice keep saying to him. He cursed Hermione for giving him this kind of responsibility. Did she realize that her and Ron's entire future depended on this little piece of paper that he had in his pocket?  
  
"Visiting Hours are over! Out!" The Squib Nurse came in. "And don't even try to ask one more hour. I've had enough of you two barging in here ever day without even a simple 'excuse me.' Honestly, did your mother ever teach you manners?"  
  
"Alright." Ron said, sighing. He looked at Hermione and wrapped his arms around her. "Listen, 'Mione. Harry and I, we're going to try out for a famous Quidditch Team. We're going to make, just for you, okay? We're going to give you a seat of honor at every game we play."  
  
"Right!" Harry said energetically.   
  
Ron squeezed Hermione a little tighter. "I'm going to make sure you get better. I'll win a lot of games and earn a lot of money and get you the best treatment money can buy. But you have to promise me one thing." He pulled away to look Hermione in the eyes.   
  
"Never lose faith."  
  
(A/N: More to come!! Ah! I can't take the suspense! Give me two or three days!!) 


	3. Quidditch Dreamer

Quidditch Dreamer  
  
"Welcome the world of Quidditch, men." The coach was a bulky man with a thick jaw and a mass of curly hair.  
  
Harry and Ron stood, in their old school Quidditch Robes. Ron had saved his money and bought a used Nimbus 2000. Harry glanced eagerly around him and saw that most of the Seekers that were trying out were smaller then him. Would that make them better seekers then him? Ron, on the other hand, stood taller then all of the other people trying out of Keepers. But, regardless of height, all of the people trying out were older, and almost surely more experienced.  
  
"I'd like to let you know, only the best get on my team." The coach narrowed his eyes. "And skill isn't the only factor involved. What I want in my team is spirit. Every player has a reason for trying out for this team."   
  
The coach walked up and down the line, and no one dared to look him in the eye as he walked past each of them. He finally stopped at Ron, who gulped nervously.  
  
"How old are you, son?"   
  
"Eighteen, sir."   
  
"A bit tall for Quidditch, don't you think?" Ron didn't answer. "Well, I won't judge you on your height. What's your reason for being here?"  
  
"Erm--" The image of Hermione sitting on the hospital bed, looking forlornly at the door, waiting for him and Harry imposed on his thoughts.  
  
"No purpose, then? Then you might as well--"  
  
"Her name's Hermione, sir."   
  
"A girl, huh?" The coach grinned.   
  
"Yes, sir." Ron seemed to relax. His voice was booming with pride. "She's under a curse, sir. The Cruciatus Curse, in fact. I promised her that I'd get her out of St. Mungo's." There was a hushed murmur amongst the men.   
  
"Then why are you standing here on this field instead of in Healer Training?"   
  
Ron didn't hesitate. "She told me, sir, that if I ever did anything I didn't want to do just for her, she'd strangle me to death. I still take that threat seriously, sir." He smiled.  
  
"I see." The Coach smiled. "And your name is?"  
  
"Weasley, sir. Ronald Weasley."   
  
"Alright, Ronald Weasley, you're up first. I've bewitched these Quaffles to fly at you faster then you've seen Bludgers fly past your face." He grinned. "Think you can stop them."  
  
"I'll try, sir."  
  
"Then get on the field, Weasley."  
  
Harry watched with a pained expression as Ron let three, four, five Quaffles into the rings. The coach was looking at him angrily, as if he had disgraced the game of Quidditch altogether.  
  
"Concentrate, Weasley!"  
  
Six, seven, eight Quaffles made it past him. The other Keepers were laughing at Ron. Harry was suddenly reminded of Weasley is Our King. He wanted to help Ron, but what could he do from down here? He stepped forward and shouted at Ron.  
  
"Does Hermione mean that little to you? Do you want her to rot away in St. Mungo's forever? Do you not care? You're a pitiful excuse for a friend, Ron!"   
  
Ron stopped for a minute and looked as if he were going to fly down and kill Harry at that moment.   
  
"Let them all through, Ron! Let Hermione down! Let her die alone in a musty hospital room with no one but that Squib Nurse of hers! Go on Ron, all you have to do is give up. Make her cry! She's crazy anyway!"  
  
"Harry Potter! When I get down there, you'd better hope that broom of yours is faster then mine!" Ron yelled back angrily.  
  
Harry feared for his life, but he decided that it was worth it if Ron was going to make the Keeper. He wouldn't let him disappoint Hermione, and more importantly, disappoint himself. Harry smiled and stepped back.   
  
Ron hit the next Quaffle away with such force that it went straight into the hoops on the opposite sides of the field. Eighteen, nineteen, twenty Quaffles through the hoops! The Coach was gaping at Ron with his mouth wide open.  
  
'Filthy little mudblood....'  
  
'Bet you five galleons the next one dies, pity it wasn't Granger...'  
  
'Not crazy!'   
  
Ron gritted his teeth and wacked every Quaffle away as if it was a person insulting Hermione. As if each Quaffle were screaming 'mudblood' at him, he beat it. As if every Quaffle had the Slytherin emblem on it and Malfoy's malignant grin, he made sure it paid for what it had done.   
  
"Say, Potter." The Coach said. "Are he and this Hermione married?"  
  
"Not yet, sir." Harry answered.   
  
The coach laughed gruffly. "He's got a lot of spunk, that one."   
  
"Sixty Quaffles!" Another Seeker gasped. "He's unstoppable!"   
  
"Alright Weasley, that's enough." The Coach yelled up to him. The Quaffles stopped immediately. "Any of you boys want to try and top that?" The Coach asked them, grinning.  
  
A very sweaty looking Ron came down practically flew towards Harry. He strangled him against the bench.  
  
"Listen (pant) you stupid (pant) Potter (pant) If you (pant) ever call Herm (pant) ione crazy (pant) again you'll (pant) I'll (paint) KILL YOU!" Ron tightened his grip.   
  
"Ron." Harry smiled. "You just put sixty Quaffles through the hoops."   
  
  
  
Ron loosened his grip at once and looked at the Coach, who nodded in agreement. He grinned and pulled a photograph out of his pocket. He kissed it and laughed.  
  
"It was all for you, 'Mione!"   
  
The other Keepers tried to top Ron's skill, but none of them could. It was impossible to put sixty Quaffles into the hoops across the fields without having an iron broom. The closest anyone ever got was two Quaffles.   
  
"Alright, time for the Seekers." The coach said. "I have here, a golden snitch. I've put an invisibility charm on it."  
  
"But, how are we going to see it, sir?" The man standing on Harry's right asked.   
  
"You won't. If you're a true seeker, you will feel it."  
  
The Seekers exchanged nervous glances.  
  
"It doesn't matter what broom you have, whether it be a Nimbus 3000 or a Firebolt XL, if truly have the guts to become a famous Seeker, you have to find the Snitch with your instinct."  
  
"Yes, sir." was the mumbled response.  
  
"Good Luck, Harry." Ron said.   
  
"Erm--yeah."   
  
"Get going, men!" The Coach hurled the invisible ball into the air. All of the Seekers except Harry followed the path of his arm. Harry stood there, hearing the Snitch. It was close to him, and he could feel it was there, but where was it? Hadn't the coach just thrown it?  
  
"Get on, Harry!" Ron said. "What're you doing?"  
  
Harry looked around slowly and then up at the men. They were flying all around, trying to look as if they had found the Snitch. Some had there eyes closed and were crashing into the hoops.  
  
"Something wrong, Potter?"  
  
"Sir, you haven't thrown the Snitch yet." Harry said.   
  
The Coach laughed. "You got me, Potter. I'm surprised you figured it out this early, usually, my Seekers take a few hours to figure out there is no Snitch." He handed Harry the invisible Snitch and it at once became visible.  
  
"Whoa, Harry! That Snitch has to be pure gold!" Ron said, touching it.   
  
"All right, you ladies! Potter has the Snitch!"  
  
The men started to yell, outraged.   
  
"He didn't even leave the ground!"  
  
"He probably doesn't even know how to fly a broom!"  
  
"That's enough, you babies!" The Coach yelled.   
  
He lined the men up again and smiled.   
  
"Well, I have to admit, I've never had a try out session that was this easy to decide. Our new Seeker is Harry Potter."  
  
Harry smiled broadly.   
  
"And our new Keeper, with not even a sliver of competition is Ron Weasley."   
  
Harry and Ron exchanged high fives in front of the coach. The other men grumbled angrily and walked off the field.  
  
"Now, our first game is in Bulgaria, the next is in Beijing, next, in Italy. If we win those three games, we go on to India, America and the championship is back here, in London. Got it?"  
  
Ron knit his brow. "How long will we be away from here?"  
  
"About a year, Weasley."  
  
"What?" Ron asked, outraged. "But--but--"  
  
"No, buts! If you want, I can call those other Keepers back here! Now, go get some sleep, we fly to Bulgaria tomorrow."  
  
"Tomorrow?" Harry asked. "That soon?"  
  
"We're on a tight schedule, Potter. And you'd better hope your skills are still intact tomorrow. Viktor Krum is a hard Seeker to top."  
  
"Krum..." Ron growled softly.  
  
~-~-~-~-~-~-  
  
"Ginny!" Ron held the phone close to his face. "Is Hermione there?"   
  
"She misses you a lot, Ron." Ginny said.   
  
"You haven't been--"  
  
"No, Ron, I've been visiting her every day, just like you said."  
  
"Good. Let me talk to her."   
  
"Did you win that game against those Bulgarians?" Ginny asked.  
  
Ron sighed. "Yeah."  
  
"I heard that you kept knocking the Quaffle at Viktor's head. Honestly, Ron."  
  
"Hey, the guy's a git. He deserved it."  
  
Ginny laughed. "Okay, I'll get Hermione." He heard Ginny's voice calling out to Hermione. "Hermione! Hermione, Ron wants to talk to you!"   
  
"Ron...?" Hermione's voice sounded distant.  
  
"Hey, Hermione! Great news! We're traveling to Beijing tomorrow, we've beaten those bloody Bulgarians!"  
  
"Oh." Was all she said.  
  
"What? No, 'Great job, Ron?' or 'Your so stupid, Ron?'" Ron laughed.  
  
"When?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"When are coming--coming back?" she asked.  
  
"Not for a while, 'Mione."  
  
"When?" Hermione's voice was earnest.  
  
Ron suddenly felt a heavy guilt. How could he tell her that they'd be gone for a year? He swallowed the lump in his throat, telling himself that boys don't cry.  
  
"A year?"   
  
Hermione was silent for a while, then said softly. "I miss you."  
  
"Oh, come on, Hermione. You're breaking my heart!" Ron said. "You know I want to go back right now, but, we've got a whole slur of games left!"  
  
Hermione didn't reply.  
  
"Hey, I'll make you a deal, you wait for me and I'll win that Quidditch World Cup for you. Deal?"  
  
"Don't want it, Ron." Her sentences were becoming shorter, a sign that she was withdrawing.  
  
"Please, Hermione, I mean, you have to understand, we've got all this training and--"  
  
"Weasley, hurry it up!" Alan, one of the chasers hit him over the head with a towel. "You're not the only one with a sweetheart."  
  
Ron ignored him. "Look, 'Mione. I miss you to death. But, I have to do this. I have to go now, please hold on? Please?"   
  
There was a sudden crash and the next thing Ron heard was Ginny's voice.  
  
"She's crying, Ron." She said. "A year really is a long time."  
  
"I can't help it, Ginny! Damn, is the world against me playing me Quidditch?"  
  
"Ron, whether you're on every Quidditch Poster in the world, or you're only picture is in that picture frame beside Hermione's bed, it won't matter. Hermione'll still miss you."   
  
"Ginny--"  
  
"Weasley! I said hurry it up!" Alan said.  
  
"Listen to me, Ron." Ginny said quietly. "Hermione--"  
  
"Time's up!" Alan said, taking the phone and hanging it up.  
  
"Hey, I was kind of in the middle of something!" Ron said.  
  
"You're always in the middle of something." Alan muttered.   
  
"Jerk." Ron muttered.  
  
"Peasant."  
  
"What was that?" Ron asked sharply.  
  
"Ron, come on." Harry hissed, pulling Ron away.  
  
Ron walked away with Harry, face red and looking disgruntled. What was Ginny about to say? He thought. What was wrong with Hermione?  
  
Ron would have to wait until they were in Italy; after the game to talk to Ginny or Hermione again.   
  
"What did Hermione say?" Harry asked.  
  
"I think she hates me now." Ron sighed.  
  
"She can't hate you, Ron. What did you say?"  
  
"Nothing. I told her the truth."  
  
"So why was she upset."  
  
"A year is a long time to be alone with no one, you know?"   
  
Harry and Ron leaned against the lockers. Ron closed his eyes and sank down to a sitting position.   
  
"I can't help wondering, should I have stayed in London, with Hermione? Did I do the right thing?"  
  
"Ron, does it feel like the right thing?"  
  
"I don't know." Ron shrugged hopelessly. "I want to earn lots of money, and I have. Eight hundred galleons a game! That's a LOT of money, Harry. More then my family ever had. But--"  
  
"But?"  
  
"But every time I send the money to St. Mungo's I see Hermione, just sitting there, waiting for us to burst in the door, with only Ginny. She doesn't even remember Ginny. I mean, sometimes I wonder how I could be so cruel as to leave her there, all alone. Am I a heartless jerk, Harry? She only asked me for one thing, she only asked me to come back. And no matter how much money I make a game, I can't give her that. And that's what bugs me!"  
  
"Ron..." Harry was a loss for words, he couldn't quite comfort Ron.   
  
Ron ran his fingers through his hair. "I mean, what if she dies there, while we're here, playing a stupid game? What if she just gives up on life?"  
  
"Don't think like that, Ron."  
  
"What if she just falls asleep one day and never wakes up? What if I'm not there to hold her hand when she can't sleep? What if I'm not there to hug her when she remembers something bad?"  
  
Tears were coming down Ron's cheeks. He didn't bother to wipe them away.   
  
"It'd be all my fault. And I'd wonder, how could I could such a bloody arse. And I see myself at her funeral, Harry. Every night, before I go to sleep, I see her dead, in her coffin, still smiling. And I think, 'How could I? How could I?' "   
  
"Ron, you have to stop thinking like that!" Harry said, about to cry himself. "She's not going to die! She isn't!"  
  
"Oh, how do you know, Harry?" Ron asked, looking up at him angrily. "You know how it is with people under The Curse. Most of them die by suicide. You know why people commit suicide, Harry? Because they have no one! Sometimes that can't be prevented! But, I know I can prevent it, and here I am just sitting here!"  
  
"Ron, Hermione's not crazy." He said with a small smile. "You taught her that. And that's what makes her different from all of the other people under The Curse."  
  
Ron looked thoughtful for a minute and smiled. "Yeah, you're right, Harry. She isn't crazy. She'll wait for us. And when we go back to her, we'll bring back that shiny trophy and put it in her room." He laughed. "Let that Squib Nurse try and stop us!"  
  
"But we have a lot of games left before we get to the World Cup."   
  
"One games, a lot of games, a million games, what's the difference?" Ron asked standing up and wiping his eyes. "All of them, each and every one of the, is for Hermione!"   
  
"For Hermione!" Harry echoed.  
  
They high fived each other.  
  
~-~-~-~-~-  
  
"Merry Christmas, Hermione!" Fred said handing her a present.   
  
"Ron made us promise to give you presents, even though he couldn't be here this year." George said.  
  
"Ron..." She said distantly.  
  
"Yeah, that's his name." Fred laughed.  
  
"Speaking of the little bugger, look what we've got!"   
  
Hermione didn't look up.   
  
"It's his old teddy bear! He carried it around everywhere until he was eleven."   
  
"Of course, it stopped being cute after ten, and just started to be pitiful." Fred laughed.  
  
Hermione took the bear. She cocked her head curiously. Both eyes were buttons and the stuffing was spilling out of its left arm. She placed it on her lap and looked up at them.  
  
"Where is Ron?"  
  
"Where is he? He's got one more game before the World Cup! Our ickle Ronnykins is going to be a Superstar!" Fred laughed. He put his arm around Hermione. "But don't you worry, 'Mione, he'll come back. After all, he promised you, didn't he?"  
  
"Oh yeah, and mum sent us with these." George said, handing Hermione a bag of gingerbread cookies. "Damn good, they are."  
  
"Mind if we have a few?" Fred asked. "Mum said she added something special to this batch."  
  
Hermione pushed the cookies away from her and clasped the bear in her arms.   
  
"I guess that's a yes." George reached in and took a big bite of one. "She put extra cinnamon and sugar! Blimey, these are better then any we've ever had!"  
  
"Delicious!" Fred said, ripping the arm off of one with his teeth.   
  
"Well, Hermione, it's been great, but we've got to get back to our shop."  
  
"The Holiday Rush goes on!" Fred ran out of the room dramatically.  
  
"Bye, Hermione! Ron sends his love!" George followed Fred, closing the door behind him.   
  
After they had long gone, after their footsteps had faded away, Hermione reached into the bag. She pulled out a gingerbread cookie and sniffed it. She smiled and took a small bite. Then, she took another and another, until the cookie was all gone. She dropped to the floor, on her knees, clutching the bear tightly. She leaned forward, as if she were going to vomit.  
  
"Ron..." She whispered, tears rushing into her eyes. She wanted him to come running, to hold her in his arms and tell her she wasn't crazy. Without him, nothing was sure anymore. She rested her head on the cold floor, watching the floor from eye level. She held the bear to her nose and smelled him. She smiled slightly and tasted her own salty tears.   
  
She sat up, and looked at the picture. Ron smiled, and waved to her. She touched his face, how she longed to be that girl in the picture. She whimpered as she climbed into bed. She wanted to be tucked in. She lay there, staring at the bear on the floor. Finally, she reached out and took the bear and held it close to her chest.   
  
After what seemed like hours, a figure appeared in the darkness. He was tall, with red hair that was barely visible.   
  
"Ron..."  
  
He waved to her and then disappeared into the shadows. She sat up quickly and stared into the shadow where he used to be.  
  
"Ron!" She screamed. "Ron!"   
  
She choked on her tears when she tried to scream his name again. She clutched the bear even tighter, and shook her head.   
  
"Come back, Ron, please come back." She whispered into the darkness.  
  
~-~-~-~-~-  
  
"Another Victory for the Chudley Cannons!" The Announcer boomed. "They dominate over America with a massive score of five-hundred!"  
  
"Good job, men!" The Coach yelled in the locker room.   
  
"That was a good game." Harry said, leaning back on the couch. The whole coach was upholstered with the Chudley Cannons logo.  
  
"Yeah, but bloody hell, do Americans have a strange accent!" Ron exclaimed.   
  
Harry laughed. "Tell me about it."   
  
"Phone Call, Weasley." Alan said, throwing him the receiver angrily.   
  
"Thanks." Ron muttered to him as he walked away. "Hullo?"  
  
"Ron, it's Ginny." Ginny's voice was soft and almost apologetic.  
  
"Ginny? Is something wrong?"  
  
"It's Hermione..."  
  
"What's wrong with her?" Ron asked automatically.  
  
"Oh, Ron, it's horrible!" Ginny sounded on the verge of tears. "They keep trying to feed her by mouth, but she won't eat. She keeps throwing it all up. She won't talk to anyone, not even me!"   
  
"Wha-what?" Ron sounded dazed.  
  
"It's like she's given up, Ron! They stuck a needle in her and they're feeding her through a tube thing with liquid food. All she does is hold on to that stupid dirty bear with the stuffing falling out of the arm Fred and George gave her for Christmas!"  
  
"They gave her my bear?"  
  
"Oh, I guess." Ginny sounded frustrated. "She's crying all of time, it's awful Ron. The Doctors can't get her to respond, no matter what they do. They're afraid they'll--"she stopped.  
  
"They'll what?" Ron asked, afraid. "What will they do, Ginny? Tell me!"  
  
"They're thinking about putting her in the basement."  
  
"What does that mean? Are they going to kill her?"  
  
"No, no, nothing like that. The basement is where they put all of the hopeless cases. You know, like people in permanent comas. But Ron, if they put her there, she'll go mad! There are hardly any nurses there! And there aren't any visitors allowed."  
  
"So basically, they're going to leave her to die?" Ron asked, infuriated.  
  
"Yes, Ron! She needs you! She needs to see you! You and Harry!"  
  
"Let me talk to her."  
  
"Ron, she won't talk."  
  
"Just give her the phone."  
  
"Oh, alright." Ginny called Hermione again. "Hermione, Ron wants to talk to you. Oh, please? You have to talk to him."   
  
"Hermione?" Ron said.  
  
He expected to hear her distant 'Ron...' but didn't.  
  
"Hermione, please. You have to hold on!"  
  
She didn't answer.  
  
"You're breaking my heart, 'Mione. You know I miss you more then I miss eating chocolate frogs, but you just have to hold on for three more months."  
  
She didn't answer.  
  
"Hermione, I'd do anything if you weren't--"  
  
"Come back, Ron." She whispered. "Come back."  
  
"Hermione, you know I can't." Ron was about to cry again.  
  
"Ron, come back!" Her words were more earnest; begging.  
  
"'Mione..."  
  
"Please, Ron! Come back!" She was shouting, pleading for him as if she were begging for her life.  
  
This time, it was Ron who didn't respond.  
  
"Please..." She was sobbing. "Please..."  
  
"Ron?" Ginny came back on. "Those are the first words she's said in months."  
  
"Ginny, I can't come home." Ron said, choking on his tears. "You have to tell her that."  
  
"She won't listen to me, Ron."  
  
"You have to make her!"  
  
"Ron, are you that thick headed?" Ginny sounded angry.  
  
"Ginny..." Ron said. "I'm coming to see her, now."  
  
"Now? But don't you have a game in a few hours?"  
  
"That doesn't matter." Ron said. "Harry and I are coming right now." He slammed the phone on the table.  
  
"Something wrong, Ron?" Harry asked innocently.   
  
"We're going to St. Mungo's."  
  
"Now?" Harry asked.  
  
"Don't come if you want." Ron muttered. He reached into his bag and grabbed a pouch of Floo Powder.  
  
"Ron, wait! Our game--"  
  
"Hermione's more important then that bloody game will ever be." Ron said.  
  
Harry thought for a minute. "Alright, I'm coming too."  
  
"St. Mungo's, Room 411!" Ron yelled.  
  
Harry repeated it, careful to make the words clear. He didn't want to end up in Knockturn Alley again.  
  
~-~-~-  
  
"Ron!" Ginny yelled into the dial tone. "What a stupid git!"   
  
Hermione lay on the bed. Her wrist was laid out, a needle slowly pouring a thick brown liquid into her body. She clutched the teddy bear with her right hand. She was awake, but she didn't move. She blinked, but it was not apparent that she saw. Her eyes were lost, as if looking for someone or something to focus on.  
  
"What's that?" Ginny gasped as a blue flame ignited in the fireplace. "Ron?"  
  
A Quidditch Player covered in ashes fell out of the fireplace. He sat up and wiped the ashes from his eyes. Ginny smiled; he had gotten a bit taller since the last time she saw him.  
  
"Don't move." She said dangerously. "You're filthy."  
  
"What?" Ron asked.   
  
Ginny flicked her wand and all of the ashes fell off of Ron. "There, now you can move."  
  
"Hermione." Ron said softly.   
  
It was as if his nightmares had come back to life. She had closed her eyes. She breathed softly through her nose and her hand was slumped lifelessly over the side of the bed.  
  
"She's not...dead?" Harry asked, coming towards her.  
  
"No, she's breathing." Ginny said.  
  
"Hermione..." He said again. "Wake up. Wake up!"   
  
He pulled her up by her shoulders and gave her a small shake. Her head lolled to the side lazily. He put his arms around her and let her limp body lean against his.  
  
"Hermione!" He yelled. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! Please wake up! 'Mione, please!"  
  
Harry pulled out the piece of paper. He would give it Ron before the Quidditch Game. He had waited to long, and perhaps already cost Ron and Hermione terrible hurt by not giving it to him.  
  
"I'm sorry, Hermione! Wake up!" He clutched her. "I came back, Hermione! I came back!"   
  
"Ron, our game--"  
  
"Damn the bloody game!"  
  
"But, we'll let the whole team down."  
  
"Damn the bloody team!"  
  
"But, this whole year, it'd be for nothing!"   
  
"Ron..." Ginny said. "I'll bring Hermione to the game. You go."  
  
"But, Ginny!"  
  
"No, Ron. She would've wanted this." Ginny sighed. "My big brother, a Quidditch Super Star! Hermione and I will be in the crowd, you'll see us after the game."  
  
"Promise?" Ron asked her.  
  
"Yes, yes, I promise!" Ginny exclaimed. "Now go, it's always a challenge getting Hermione into muggle clothes."  
  
"Alright." He and Harry entered the fireplace and left in a neon green flame.  
  
~-~-~-~-~-~-  
  
"Welcome the world Quidditch Cup!" The Announcer boomed. "Playing here today are the Chudley Cannons and the Tornadoes!"  
  
"Alright men, we've come this far." The Coach stalked back and forth across the line of players. "So we might as well win. Potter, I want you to catch the Snitch as soon as you see it. Do not hesitate. Anything you boys want to say before we go out there?"  
  
"Sir." Ron spoke up. "This is going to be my last game. Whether or not we lose."  
  
"Weasley, explain yourself!"  
  
"Well, sir. Hermione, she needs me. I mean, she's been one inch close to death for months. But sir, when she's better, I'd like to rejoin the team."  
  
"You're the best Keeper I ever had, Weasley. But, if you have to go, I'm proud of you." He put his hand on Ron's shoulder. "There'll always be a spot on this team for you."  
  
"Thank you, sir."  
  
"Now, let's get out there and show them what the Cannons are all about!"  
  
"Right!"  
  
The team marched out on the field. The Tornadoes were dressed in blue robes, resembling the Ravenclaw ones at Hogwarts. They played as good as their robes looked. Ron had a difficult time blocking the Quaffles partly because the Chudley Keepers weren't used to actually having to steal the Quaffle as Ron scored most of the Goals and partly because he kept looking at the crowd, looking for Hermione. It was impossible to find her in this huge crowd.  
  
"Harry Potter has seen the Snitch!"  
  
No I haven't, Harry thought. What kind of retarded--  
  
Then he saw it. He reached out and it grabbed it. He was surprised that it had been that easy. He held in his hand, the Golden Snitch. They had won. Ron was the best Keeper in the World, and he was the best Seeker in the World. He held the snitch up proudly for the entire world to see.  
  
"The Chudley Cannons take the championship!"   
  
"We won!" Ron yelled.   
  
"We did?" Alan asked. He was still trying to regain the Quaffle.  
  
"WE WON!!!" The Coach yelled from the ground.   
  
The entire team was jumping and hooting like they were still in school. They hugged and embraced each other, even Alan and Ron were friendlier. The trophy was lowered from the sky. It was a huge thing, about five feet tall. The Team held it up above their heads, chanting: "Chudley Canons! Chudley Cannons!"  
  
"Ron!" Although the call was barely audible, Ron turned around. It was the voice he knew, the voice he wanted to hear most of all.  
  
Hermione stood their, covered in ash, next to Ginny. She wore her pajamas, but that didn't matter to Ron.   
  
"Hermione!" He screamed. She took a step forward and he met her before she could put her foot down. He lifted her up and swung her around in his arms. It was like a scene from a hopelessly romantic movie, where everyone won; where everything turned out right.  
  
"Hermione! Oh, Hermione, we won!" He yelled. He felt the tears rush from his eyes and down his cheeks before he could protest.  
  
He looked at her face. She wasn't smiling, just looking at him. Her eyes were still lost and hopeless.  
  
"Oh, come on 'Mione. You got to be happy! We won!"  
  
Hermione's face remained expressionless. Ron knit his brow in concern. It wasn't like her not to be happy. And, she was awfully light, lighter then he remembered. He smiled.  
  
"Don't play the moody girl, 'Mione." He lifted her up playfully.   
  
"Well, look what the cat dragged in." Harry laughed when he came into the locker room.   
  
"She's a bit disgruntled, I'm afraid." Ron laughed. "Come on, Hermione, don't be like that."   
  
Hermione sat quietly next to him on the couch. She clutched his arm and looked distantly at Harry. Ron sat back and was talking to Ginny.  
  
"So, Ginny, how long was she hooked up to that wire thingy?"  
  
"Seven months, I think. Fred and George's joke shop has been boosted, did you know? Ever since they put up that poster on their door saying 'We support Weasley, Quidditch Superstar.' " Ginny laughed.  
  
"Those two will do anything to make a sale." Ron laughed. "Hey, Harry, I'm going to go get my things. Could you take Hermione for a minute?"  
  
"Yeah, sure." Harry extended his arm to Hermione. She let go of Ron's arm, but didn't make a reach for Harry's.  
  
"Hermione? Hermione are you okay?"   
  
She didn't answer, and took Harry's arm, almost cautiously. She gave a small nod and followed and looked away from him.   
  
"Ron." Harry said, taking the paper out of his pocket. "Read this, while you're over there."  
  
"What is this?" Ron asked.   
  
"Just something you need to know."  
  
"Erm--alright."  
  
Harry sank back onto the couch. Hermione let go of his arm and sat beside him. He looked at her curiously. What was wrong with her? She was with him and Ron, what more could she want?   
  
"Ginny? What's wrong with Hermione?"  
  
"Oh, erm--" Ginny started to stutter  
  
"Is something wrong with her?" Harry asked.  
  
"Well, you know, it's kind of, erm--"  
  
"Ginny! What's wrong with her?" Harry asked louder.  
  
"The doctors said that, being away from you and Ron for so--so long would cause some, er, permanent damage."  
  
"Permanent Damage? Like what?"  
  
"Like, like, you know. She won't respond to any treatments, she won't eat, it's like, well, she's given up. They're not sure if they can fix her. They're not even sure you and Ron can fix her."  
  
"What?! Why didn't you tell Ron and me? Hermione means more to us then Quidditch, why didn't you--"  
  
"I did, Harry! I did!" Ginny whimpered. "Ron just kept saying, 'Tell her to hold on! Tell her to hold on!'. But, Harry, she couldn't take it. I mean, it was like living hell for her! She didn't have anyone she remembered. And at night, she'd clutch that picture you two gave her. She'd cry over it. She'd whimper your names. And, oh, Harry, it broke my heart to see her so--so miserable! Then one day, she snapped. She wouldn't talk anymore! They're--"  
  
"They're what? What are they going to do, Ginny?"   
  
"Her doctor, he's given up on her. If they can't find a doctor for her, they're going to put her in the Basement."  
  
"The Ward of Hopeless Cases?"   
  
"Yes. But, Harry, you can't let them! You have to stop them!"  
  
"Does Ron know?" Harry asked. Hermione was clutching his arm again.  
  
"I've told him, but, Harry, he's so thick headed! I can't get it through his skull. Hermione'll DIE if they put her in there! She'll die!" Ginny was about to cry.  
  
"Hermione...." Harry looked over to Hermione, who was leaning against him, either not understanding, or not wanting to understand.  
  
Ron came back, holding his duffel bag.   
  
"Harry, why didn't you tell me?" Ron asked, throwing him the crumpled up paper ball. "Could've saved me a world of grief, you know."   
  
"Sorry, Ron."  
  
"Well, it doesn't matter. I'm going to leave Quidditch. I'm done with Quidditch. No more Quidditch." He shook his head.   
  
Hermione got up. She walked over to him. Her hands were trembling and her eyes were tearing. She let her tears run down her cheeks. Slowly, she put her thin arms around his neck, having to stand on her tiptoes. Ron closed his eyes and clutched her body.   
  
"Don't let me go, Ron. Don't let me go." She whispered.  
  
He held her even tighter.   
  
"I won't, I won't. I promise, I never will." He whispered. "And I'll become a mental Healer. I don't know how good I'll be at it, but I'm going to get you out of that hospital. I don't know if I can, but..."  
  
"Ron?"  
  
"Hmm..?"  
  
"Never lose faith." She whispered. 


	4. Healer

Healer  
  
Ron opened his heavy textbook once again to study. He sat in Hermione's room, with a mug of coffee, a notebook and hopeless studying to do.   
  
Hermione hadn't improved at all. She still lay on her bed, her wrist laid floppily beside her, taking in her food. Ron turned a page in his textbook, sighing deeply.  
  
"Who knew becoming a healer required hours of studying?" Ron asked Hermione. "Did you know?"  
  
Hermione didn't answer, just stared at the ceiling. Ron sighed again and put down his pencil. He walked over to Hermione and sat on her bed. She sat up, looking at him expectantly.  
  
"I guess it's my fault you got like this in the first place, huh?"  
  
Hermione shook her head. She started to cry.  
  
"Oh, come on, Hermione. You're breaking my heart." He smiled.   
  
She leaned her head against him and started to sob. Ron put his hand on her hair and sighed.  
  
"You know, this crying isn't going to make you feel any better."  
  
She stopped crying and looked at him.   
  
She's beautiful, Ron thought. She never complains about being in this musty smelling room. It's a wonder she cries, since she won't talk to anyone anymore. I hate it when she cries, but, when she cries, her eyes....Wait, wait, am I falling for Hermione Granger? I can't be falling for Hermione Granger. I mean, she's Hermione! But, what's so bad about her being Hermione! Shut up, Ron. Just shut up.  
  
"You were always the book worm, you know? I bet you could help me with this stuff." Ron looked around the room. "Still no window. How inhuman are these people?"   
  
"Ron..." Hermione started to sob again.   
  
Ron held her. "Come on, if you keep this up then I'll never be able to graduate. You know I'd like to get my shirt wet all night, but I've got to study or I'll never pass and you'll never get out of here. Do you understand?"  
  
Hermione shook her head.   
  
"Hermione Granger, I do declare, you are the hardest person to please in the world." Ron sighed. "Well, Harry's off to become an Auror, you know. Says he wants to avenge Sirius. I don't blame him. Quidditch life was exciting, but, it can get very monotonous."   
  
Why am I talking to her like this? Ron asked himself. Can she even understand? Does she even care?   
  
"It's odd, you know. It's like you don't want me to study. Used to be, you'd have to lock me in my Dormitory to study. Funny how things change."  
  
Hermione let go of him and lay back down, looking at the wall.  
  
"You know, when you're sane again I'm going to yell at you terribly. I'm going to pull that bushy hair of yours and I'd like to see you try and catch me when I run away." He laughed.   
  
Ron sat back in the chair on the other side of the room. The equations and the facts, what did it all mean? Well, he didn't need to understand them, just memorize them. As he worked, the clock seemed to speed up, the ticks coming more often then his heart beat. After a while, the ticks seemed to fade away, and become nothing. He felt his head dropping, yet there was nothing he could do to stop it.   
  
Hermione sat up in her bed and looked at the clock. The bold letters said half after one. She couldn't really tell if it was day or night because her room had no windows. She looked over at Ron, who was slumped over on the table. She smiled her odd little smile and took the blanket off of her bed. Carefully, she draped it over him. She didn't know what it was, but a funny feeling stirred inside of her, like a funny memory from a long time ago.   
  
Hermione smiled at him. She pushed the few strands of red hair from his face and went back to her bed, satisfied. She was cold, but it was worth it. Then, she frowned and went back to Ron. She leaned close to his face, watching him breathe. She smiled and kissed him softly on his cheek. Finally satisfied, she went back to her bed. In the darkness, she reached for the picture frame, to make sure it was still there. She brushed her hand against it and felt a surge of joy and energy.   
  
Then, she fell asleep.  
  
~-~-~-~-~-  
  
Ron woke up the next morning, feel warm. He felt so warm, why was it so warm? It was as if he had died. He'd heard that before people freeze to death, they feel this wonderful warmth, as if they're by the fire with their loved ones. But, he wasn't exactly freezing to death, unless of course, the Squib nurse had put the air conditioning to high again.  
  
He raised his head and saw that he was covered with a blanket.   
  
A blanket? Ron thought. How in the world did I get a blanket around me. Wait a second, this is Hermione's blanket!  
  
"Hermione..." He looked over to her. She was shivering on her bed and Ron felt this sudden impact of guilt over him. But why should he feel guilty? He didn't do anything! He walked over to her and draped the blanket over her.  
  
"You are just too much, you know that?" he said. "Beautiful, though. But, just too much."  
  
Hermione seemed to smile in her sleep.  
  
"You sneaky little devil, you're awake, aren't you. You've been watching me all night, messing with me notes, have you?"   
  
"Yes, Ron." She sat, up laughing.  
  
"You know, you could've got a fever from having no blanket. Do you honestly want to get sick?"  
  
Hermione hung her head.   
  
"I was just joking, I was just joking." Ron said, laughing. "You are too much, Hermione Granger. And when I get you out of here I'm going to buy all the pranks in Fred and George's joke shop and pull them on you. Then let's see who's laughing."   
  
Hermione smiled.   
  
"You're getting better, aren't you? But, I can't get you off of this tube thing until I'm your Healer. Which, shouldn't be long."  
  
"Ron!" Ginny, entered the room. "Mum wants to know when your graduation is."  
  
"Gee, I dunno. I dunno if I'm even graduating!"  
  
"Don't be a git, Ron. You're at the top of your class." Ginny slapped his arm. "Besides, I over heard Hermione's Healer. He said he's given up. He says if she doesn't have another Healer voluntarily take her up their moving her to the Basement."  
  
"I'd like to see them try!" Ron stood up valiantly.   
  
"Right, Ron. So, about the graduation..."  
  
"One week. The exams are done, and I was just doing a little last minute studying last night."  
  
"You were doing extra work, for no credit?" Ginny raised her eyebrows.  
  
"Think of it as, extra work with no credit." Ron said.  
  
"Oh, you're so creative." Ginny rolled her eyes.   
  
"I know, amazing, isn't it?"  
  
"Whatever. But, your graduation is in a week, right?"  
  
"Right."  
  
"And you know you'll be graduating?"  
  
"Right."  
  
"And you know that if you don't become Hermione's Healer she'll rot away in the Basement for the rest of her miserable life?"  
  
"I am very aware of that, Ginny." Ron sighed.  
  
"Well then, I guess there's only one thing left to do."  
  
"And what would that be?"  
  
"Buy you a graduation gift." Ginny smiled slyly. "A nice muzzle will do nicely, I think."  
  
~-~-~-~-~-~-  
  
"Stop fidgeting, Hermione." Harry whispered. Hermione became still, but only for a moment or two. She was becoming impatient.  
  
"When are they going to call his name? This list is endless." Ginny whispered to Harry.  
  
"Not yet, they always announce the Valedictory last." Harry said.  
  
"Shush, the lot of you." Mrs. Weasley said.  
  
Harry stopped talking and held on to Hermione's wrist.   
  
"Don't you dare let go of her, Harry, or I'll break your face." Ron had said.  
  
He didn't dare let go of Hermione, Ron's threats were taken seriously. He looked at her. She was wearing some of her old clothes that Ginny had found in her trunk. Harry smiled. She looked like the old Hermione, bored, yet intrigued.   
  
Harry sighed. There was something different about Ron, these days. He seemed less, well, selfish. Not that he had ever been selfish or anything. It was like, he was a different person, a thankful, giving person. His best friend was becoming a mental Healer for his other best friend.   
  
"Hermione." Harry whispered, careful not to let Mrs. Weasley hear. "Do you like Ron?"  
  
Harry only asked this question to enjoy the pinkish color that came to her skin. She blushed madly at the question and turned away from Harry. He chuckled at her.  
  
"Don't worry, I think he likes you too."   
  
"Shut up, Harry." Hermione whispered.  
  
Harry held back a laugh and turned his attention back to the announcer, who had been making a very boring speech about the importance of Healers to the world. It suddenly began to bother Harry that Hermione's wrist was so small. It was like he was grabbing bone, rather then flesh. He hoped Ron would take her off of that tube thing and start feeding her real food.  
  
"Through the years, we've had many outstanding students. But this year, our Valedictory surpasses the rest. He has gotten the highest test results ever recorded here at St. Mungo's Academy of Healer Training. Everyone, please welcome, Ronald Weasley."  
  
Ron walked down, the aisle, his face a magnificent red.  
  
"Way to go, Ron!" Fred and George hooted. Mrs. Weasley elbowed them both to silence, but looked ready to scream at Ron herself.  
  
Ron took his seat amongst his classmates and smiled in the direction that he had heard Fred and George yelling.  
  
The Announcer went on, for about fifteen more minutes and finally said the words everyone wanted to hear.  
  
  
  
"Congratulations, our new Certified Healers!"   
  
There was a huge round of applause, and Harry could barely hear Fred and George hooting loudly a few seats away from him.   
  
Hermione, however, wasn't clapping. She sat quietly in her seat, looking ahead of her. Harry sat back down and looked at her, was she sick? Was she going to vomit? Was she all right?  
  
"Hermione, what's wrong?"  
  
She was crying.  
  
"He did it, Harry. He did it!"   
  
"You bet he did, Hermione!"   
  
"Come on, let's go congratulate him!" Ginny said, rushing past Harry.   
  
"Come on, Hermione." Harry said. Most of the people had already gone, and Harry was still trying to get more words of Hermione. "Is something wrong? Are you hungry?"  
  
"Tired, Harry. Just tired." She sighed.  
  
It suddenly occurred to him that for a girl that had only been eating brown stuff out of a tube thing for two years, she had an awful lot of energy. She had waited for Harry and Ron and she had smiled the entire ceremony. She must've been exhausted.   
  
"Here, climb on my back, Hermione."  
  
"Harry!" Hermione giggled.  
  
"Oh come on, it's not like I'm going to marry you, you crazy thing."   
  
"Not crazy..." she said, amused. Harry hoisted her onto his back and began to walk. He stopped suddenly. Why was she so light? Someone of her height should be heavier then this; much heavier then this. She must've only weighed as much as Ginny did during her second year.   
  
"Right then." He said, finally getting over her weight. "Off to Ron."  
  
~-~-~-~-  
  
"Excuse me, ma'am." Harry said, walking up to Ginny. "I've got a special delivery for Ronald Weasley."  
  
"Oh, yes sir. He's right over there." Ginny pointed to where Ron was.   
  
"Much obliged, ma'am." Harry smiled.   
  
Harry walked over to Ron. It still bothered him that Hermione was so light, but he pushed it away from his mind when he saw Ron. He looked so mature, he looked so happy and satisfied.  
  
"Excuse me, Mister Weasley? I've got special delivery for you." Harry let go of Hermione. She wavered a bit.   
  
Ron laughed. "Hello, there." He said to Hermione. "Did you miss me."  
  
Hermione threw her arms around Ron and smiled.  
  
"You did it, Ron! You did it!"  
  
"Yes, Hermione. I believe I did."  
  
~-~-~-~-~-  
  
"Weasley." Hermione's Healer said. "I know you want to help her but, she's a hopeless case. There's nothing you can do. I mean, you're a fresh new Healer, why not take on a more, worthy case?"  
  
"Hermione is plenty worthy, if that's what you mean." Ron said.  
  
"I've been trying for five years, and she won't respond to any therapy or any treatment."  
  
"That's because you treat her like a crazy person."  
  
"Well, that's what she is!"   
  
"No, you're wrong!" Ron stood up. "She isn't crazy! She's different, she's brilliant! She's never been crazy and never will be!"  
  
"You're a fool. She's under a Curse."  
  
"I'm very aware what she's under, sir."  
  
"Then why do you insist that you take a Hopeless Case like this? Hopeless Cases only pay about a hundred galleons a month."  
  
"I've got some money saved up, sir. Besides, I'm not concerned of what I make."   
  
"You should be, no man could live off love alone."  
  
"Then sir, maybe I'll be the first fool that will."  
  
The Healer looked at Ron for a long time and finally sighed, writing a few notes on his clipboard.  
  
"Fine, okay, Weasley. If you want to waste your time like--"  
  
"Thank you sir! Thank you!" Ron said, grabbing his hand and shaking it.   
  
"I hope you know what you're getting into."  
  
"I do, sir. I do."  
  
"Then get out of my sight." The Healer sighed and waved his hand.  
  
~-~-~-~-~-  
  
"Okay, Hermione. The first thing we're going to do is take out this stupid tube thing." Ron said. "Now, this is going to hurt a bit."  
  
He pulled the tube out of her wrist. Blood started to drip out. Hermione let out a small whimper of fear.  
  
"Oh come on, it's just blood." Ron said, wrapping a bandage around her wrist. "There, all better."  
  
"What real food do you plan to feed her?" Harry asked.   
  
"Well, I can't really feed her real food. More like this hospital stuff. Tastes like plastic, it does. Well, at least it's better then that brown stuff. Do you have any idea what that stuff tastes like?"  
  
"Do you?" Harry asked him.  
  
"Nope, haven't a clue." Ron smiled.   
  
He picked up a small package from the side of the table.   
  
"Well, I've got to go. Auror duties call." Harry said, smiling.   
  
"Right, goodbye Harry."  
  
Harry waved to Hermione and apparated with a flash of light and smoke.  
  
"He really needs to work on that. Auror's aren't supposed to leave smoke when they apparate." Ron started yank the plastic off of the top of the container. "Bloody hell, who packages this stuff?" He finally got it off. "Ah, success. Now, my dear, taste your first meal in two years."  
  
Hermione looked at it curiously.   
  
"What is it?" she asked him.  
  
"Well." Ron looked at the bottom of the container. "It says, nutritous, supplemental chocolate pudding. Chocolate pudding that's good for you, now I've seen everything." he smiled.   
  
He held the spoon up to her mouth. "Open your mouth."  
  
Hermione opened it obediently. She swallowed heavily.  
  
"So, how's it taste?" He asked her.  
  
Hermione didn't respond. She held her hand over her mouth, as if she were going to vomit.  
  
"Is it that bad?" Ron asked, he dipped his finger in the brown dessert and stuck it in his mouth. "Hm, not bad. Not as good as mum's, but good."   
  
He fed her more spoonfuls. When the pudding was half empty, he put the spoon down.   
  
"Okay, that's enough. Don't want to overdo it."   
  
Hermione was holding her stomach and holding her mouth.   
  
"Hermione?" Ron sat next to her on the bed. "Hermione, listen to me, you can't throw up. You can't. You have to keep that food in your stomach."  
  
"It hurts..." She whimpered.   
  
"I know, I know. You haven't had food in your stomach for a long time. But you can't throw up. Hermione, this is the only way you're going to get better."   
  
"No, Ron." She tried to make a run for the bathroom.   
  
"No, Hermione." He held her down. "You have to stick this out with me. You've got to keep that food in your stomach."  
  
Hermione clutched her stomach with both hands. She started to cry.  
  
"Make it stop, Ron, make it stop." She cried.  
  
"I'm sorry, Hermione, I'm sorry." He put his arms around her and let her cry on him. "I'm so sorry, I can't. If I could, you know I would. Please try, Hermione. You can't throw up!" He held her tighter.  
  
"Make it stop!" She yelled, her body shaking with sobs.  
  
"Hermione..."   
  
Hermione seemed to press her head against Ron's chest as she sobbed.   
  
Poor Hermione, Ron thought. I want to make it stop, but if she stays on that brown stuff she'll die, for sure. I hate to see her cry. I hate to see her sobbing like this! She doesn't deserve this pain!  
  
Ron sighed deeply and held Hermione for hours. She finally fell asleep in exhaustion. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the tears away from her face. He laid her down on the bed and smiled at her.   
  
Feelings for Hermione, he thought. Maybe.  
  
~-~-~-~-~-~-  
  
"You won." Hermione sighed.  
  
"Of course, I won, 'Mione. I'm the master at Wizard's Chess!"  
  
"Of course." She smiled.   
  
Ron sighed and began to put the pieces back into the box. Hermione looked forlornly at the wall.   
  
"It's been a year, you know." Ron said. "You've improved so much."   
  
Hermione didn't respond, but she got up and sat on her bed. Ron knit his brow and sat next to her.  
  
"Something wrong?"  
  
"Ron..." Her eyes were glistening with familiar tears. "Get me out of here. Get me out of here." She whispered.  
  
Ron put his arms around her. "I will, I promised you I will, and I fully intend to keep that promise." He sighed. "I thought you got over this crying thing."  
  
Ron pulled her away from him. Her face was tear stained again.  
  
"You know, Hermione, when you cry it, it makes just want to, just want to--"  
  
He blushed.  
  
"To what?" She asked distantly.   
  
"To--to--" He started to stutter.   
  
"Kiss me?" She asked.  
  
He looked surprised for a second and then smiled. "Damn you and your bloody brilliance."  
  
He looked into her eyes, her beautiful eyes, glistening and shining. And then he closed his eyes and let all rational thought leave his mind. He let his instinct take over. At least, he let it take over until his other instinct reminded him that he was a human being and needed air.  
  
"Bloody hell!" Ron panted. "Now I know what they mean when they say your first kiss is a breathtaking experience!"  
  
Hermione giggled.   
  
"You aren't crazy, you know."  
  
"I know." She shrugged.  
  
"'Cos crazy people can't kiss that well."  
  
"Kissed many crazy people?" She asked him, smiling.  
  
"Nope, haven't kissed one yet." Ron smiled. "Don't think I need to."  
  
"Good."   
  
~-~-~-~-  
  
"Weasley, aged twenty-three, certified Healer, wishes to approach the High Healer of St. Mungo's with a request?" A hawk nosed woman said to the bulky man.  
  
"Weasley..." The Healer looked at him. "Your patient's name, age, and health?"  
  
"Hermione Granger, Aged twenty-two, Cruciatus Cursed." Ron said, almost proudly.  
  
"Very well, you may appeal to us."   
  
Ron was reminded of a deadly inquisition. Five Healers, all men, and all tall and bulky sat looking at him expectantly. They were the High Healers. They decided who would go home and who would stay at St. Mungo's for life.  
  
"I request, that you let my patient go."  
  
"That's absurd." One of them said. "Your patient has The Curse. No witch or wizard has ever recovered."  
  
"No, sir. My patient has the ability to talk in full sentences and comprehend what is being said to her."  
  
"Really?" Another one said. "Tell us, Miss Granger. Who are your parents?"  
  
"I--I don't know, sir." She stuttered.   
  
"What school did you go to?"  
  
"I don't remember, sir."   
  
"Who was you headmaster?"  
  
Ron was suddenly angered. What were they thinking? She didn't remember anything, how did they expect her to remember this?  
  
"This is stupid." Ron said. "She can't remember those things."  
  
"Then she is not cured, Mister Weasley. The first sign of recovery is memory. Since she cannot remember, I sentence her to St. Mungo's for--"  
  
"No!" Ron protested. "She's recovered, I swear she is!"  
  
"Weasley, if you speak out of turn again, your Healer badge will be taken away and destroyed."   
  
"Besides, even if she was cured." Another Healer said. "She would still have to stay here. Regulation of the Ministry of Magic."  
  
"So you're saying, no matter what I do," Ron said quietly. "She'll never be able to go?"  
  
"In so many words, yes, Weasley." The Healer said. "You are dismissed."   
  
"You can't do this!" Ron protested.   
  
"Ron." Hermione grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the room.   
  
"You can't!"  
  
~-~-~-~-  
  
"So, how'd it go?" Harry asked.  
  
"Not good." Ron ran his fingers through his hair.  
  
"They wouldn't listen." Hermione said quietly.  
  
"I mean, it's not fair! She's perfectly sane!"  
  
"She is?" Harry looked at Hermione.  
  
"Don't be a git, Harry."  
  
"Ron, you kissed her, didn't you?" Harry asked, smiling.   
  
Hermione turned pink and Ron turned a dark shade of red.  
  
"You enjoy making people blush, don't you?" Ron asked.  
  
"Yup, that's me!" Harry laughed.   
  
"Whatever." Ron muttered. "They said, whatever I do, they'd never let Hermione go, no matter what I do, no matter what she says."   
  
"That's not fair." Harry shook his head. "Why would they even appoint her a Healer if it wasn't possible?"  
  
"I guess that's why they call her a hopeless case." Ron shrugged.  
  
"Not hopeless." Hermione said softly.  
  
"I know you're not, 'Mione. All we have to do is get those snot nosed gits to believe that."  
  
"Ron," Harry stopped. "There is a way, you could get her out of here."   
  
"What? Tell me, Harry!"  
  
"Well..." Harry paused. "Wouldn't it be nicer if we could get out of this stuffy room, there aren't any windows in here!"  
  
"Tell me about it." Ron rolled his eyes.   
  
"Hermione!" Ginny chimed, coming in the room. She took Hermione's hand. "How would you like to come down into the gardens with me?"  
  
"Go on." Ron said to Hermione, who looked at him unsurely.  
  
Ginny pulled Hermione along, out of the room.  
  
"That was convenient." Harry muttered.  
  
"So, what were you saying, about Hermione getting out of here?"  
  
"Ron, according to the Ministry of Magic Rulebook. If someone is under an illegal curse and in the current care of a hospital, they can't be set free."  
  
"Uh huh..." Ron said. "Go on."  
  
"Well, if the person is married to a qualified Mental Healer then--"  
  
"Harry Potter! Are you suggesting that I marry Hermione Granger?" Ron stood up, knocking his chair over.  
  
"Well, why not?" Harry asked him. "I mean, you two have been really good friends since you were eleven. That's got to mean something."  
  
"But, I can't MARRY her. I mean, do you know how awkward that would be? I mean, that'd be like you marrying her, if you were a Healer!"  
  
"I would." Harry shrugged.   
  
"You--what?"   
  
"Hey, Hermione's a great girl, you know. You fell in love with her, you know. Remember? When you were a quirky fourteen year old?"  
  
"I--I--" Ron stuttered. "She won't agree!"  
  
"How do you know, Ron? You read that stupid paper. Ron, she'll say yes. If you love her at all, then you'll get her out of this room. Can you imagine spending five years in a room with no windows? Weren't you the one that said that you can't live with her being in here?"  
  
"But--but--"   
  
"Ron, come on! Hermione, you know people under The Curse tend to die earlier--"  
  
"Shut up, Harry. She's not going to die."   
  
"See, there you go again! You love her, Ron! Say it!" Harry grabbed Ron's shoulders. "Say it Ron! Or you can just leave her here, in this stupid room with no bloody windows."  
  
Ron looked at Harry, who had his arms on his shoulders.   
  
"I love her." He whispered.  
  
The door opened again.  
  
"Oh, guess what?" Ginny yelled. "Are you two gits at it again?" She screamed. "Dancing again?"  
  
Harry ripped his hands off of Ron's shoulders. "Damn it, are you trained to come in at the wrong time or something?" Harry asked her.  
  
"No, it's a gift." Ginny shrugged. "Harry Potter is gay!" She sang.  
  
"Ginny Weasley!" Harry yelled, running after her. She screamed as he chased her down the hallway, until they couldn't hear the two anymore.   
  
Hermione walked in the room, almost timidly.   
  
Ron smiled broadly as she entered. "Hey, 'Mione. Did you have fun with Ginny?"   
  
"Maybe." She smiled.  
  
"You know that means a yes to me. Of course, you were always a complicated person." He smiled.  
  
"Ron Weasley." She said, straightening her back. "You drive me crazy."  
  
He laughed. "You know you love it, 'Mione."  
  
~-~-~-~-  
  
"Ginny, I need to ask you for a favor." Ron said.  
  
"Well, what is it?" Ginny asked.   
  
"I need to ask you, erm, if you were a girl and--"  
  
"I am a girl, Ron."  
  
"Oh, right. But, if you wanted to, to get married, what kind of, erm, engagement thing--"  
  
"Ron! You're getting married?" Ginny squealed.   
  
"Ginny Weasley, if you weren't my sister I'd kill you." Ron said. "But, I need you to tell me, what kind of engagement ring, I mean, if you were a girl and were going to get married, then what kind of ring, would erm, suit a person, like, say, Hermione?"  
  
"Hermione?" Ginny exclaimed. "You're going to marry--"  
  
"Shut up, woman!" Ron said. He got a few strange looks from the other customers. "Answer the question."  
  
"Ron, if I was going to get married, I'd want a ring that came from the heart. I know it sounds stupid, but I'd want one that the guy, he chose and wasn't sure I liked it. I don't really want an expensive one, but one that he could hold my hand with and he'd be satisfied when he looked at."  
  
"Ginny, could you be more vague?" Ron asked angrily.   
  
"Ron, just find one that seems to fit Hermione's personality."  
  
"Hermione's personality? Ginny, do you know that I've spent years trying to figure out that girl?"  
  
"Ron, I'm not going to stand here and contradict you. Besides, you really need to find out on your own."   
  
Ginny smiled at him and kissed him on the cheek. "I love you, big brother, but your such a git sometimes." And with that, she walked out of the store, smiling grandly.  
  
"Stupid, Ginny. Leaving me here. I've no idea how to shop for jewelry. I'm no girl. Damn, I wish I'd gone with Hermione to those jewelry stores in Hogsmeade. Then I might've had some idea." He mumbled to himself.  
  
He walked along the cases, each ring more glamorous and beautiful then the next. He liked all of them, but some were a little over what he could afford.   
  
I hate to admit it, He thought. But Ginny was right. I have to pick the one I think Hermione'll like. But, bloody hell, that girl never wore any jewelry in her life! Damn, why the hell is this so damn hard?   
  
He walked along the cases at least three times, now recognizing each ring as its price.   
  
"Maybe I should just get her a necklace instead." Ron mumbled.  
  
"Ron? What're you doing here, baby brother?" Fred asked, suddenly appearing behind him.  
  
"Picking out new earrings for yourself?" George laughed.  
  
"I might ask you gits the same question." Ron said, a bit agitated.  
  
"Ah, mum wanted us to pick up her watch. She dropped it off for repairs." Fred said.  
  
"Looking at rings, I see. Tying the knot with someone?" George asked, smiling widely. "Who's the unlucky girl, Ron?"  
  
"Blimey, do we feel sorry for her. Living you was one thing, but being married to you!"  
  
"Will you two shut up?" Ron asked. "I'm not exactly and expert on this thing."  
  
"Well, woman always want something expensive."  
  
"Something shiny."  
  
"And expensive!" George added. "So, find the one with the biggest price tag and buy it, you can't go wrong."  
  
"After all," Fred snickered. "Money talks. Speaks many languages, it does."  
  
"Really?" Ron asked in disbelief.  
  
"You're so damn gullible, Ron Weasley. Well, we'd better be off, mum's timing us. She gave us fifteen minutes and I believe--"  
  
"George Weasley! Fred Weasley!"   
  
"I believe our time has thus expired." Fred laughed.   
  
They ran past Mrs. Weasley and out the door.   
  
"Ron, dear, what are you doing here?" Mrs. Weasley asked, walking over to him. "Why are you looking at rings, dear?"  
  
"Erm--" Ron turned red. How would he tell his mother he was getting married?  
  
"Are you getting married?" She gasped. "Oh, Ron, that's wonderful, my baby boy, getting married!"  
  
The jewelry clerk behind the counter had been watching Ron the whole time.  
  
"You've a got a big family." He commented.  
  
"Erm, yeah." Ron said. "Mum, what did dad give you as an engagement thing?"  
  
"It's called an engagement ring, Ron." Mrs. Weasley rolled her eyes. "Well, your father was a poor man. He didn't have any money at all, broke as a dog! But, he got a loan from Gringott's and bought me an engagement ring. And Ron, it didn't matter how cheap it was, it was still beautiful to me."  
  
Ron looked at the engagement ring. It wasn't very big. It was pretty though, a simple design, but steal meaningful.  
  
"Thanks, mum." He said.  
  
"Anytime, Ron."  
  
~-~-~-~-~-  
  
"'Mione." Ron said. "Are you hungry?"  
  
"No." She said airily.  
  
"Hermione, I found a way, well, Harry found a way to get you out of here."  
  
"How?" She asked.  
  
"Hermione..."   
  
It's now or never, Ron thought. I have to do this. I have to do this today. I have to do this now. I have to do this today, at this time, right now. Now, as in at this very second. Shut up, Ron. Just, shut up.  
  
"Ron?"  
  
"Huh? Oh, right." He pulled the box out of his pocket.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
He opened it and slipped the ring on her finger. It was a beautiful emerald green ring, simple yet, memorable.  
  
"Hermione, could you, I mean, would you? I mean, will you, erm--will you erm--" Ron turned red and he started to stutter.  
  
"Marry you?" Hermione asked.  
  
"You know, you've really got to stop doing that." He laughed.  
  
"Ron..." She said, looking at the ring in disbelief.  
  
"'Mione, will you marry me?"  
  
~-~-~-  
  
(A/N: Don't you loooooove the suspense??) 


	5. Faith

Faith  
  
Ron sat on the church stoop, still in his Healer robes. Harry came out and hit him over the head.  
  
"That's an awfully nice thing to do to a man that's getting married." Ron said, resisting the urge to slap Harry back.  
  
"Why aren't you dressed, Ron? You're getting married in an hour."   
  
"I'm very well aware of that." Ron said.  
  
"It's hard to believe, isn't it?" Harry sat down beside him. "One minute you two are bickering like there's no tomorrow, and the next, you're getting married."  
  
"We didn't bicker that much."  
  
"Yes, you did, Ron."   
  
"Did not."  
  
"Did too."  
  
"Did not."  
  
"Did too."  
  
"Did not."  
  
"Did too."  
  
"When?" Ron challenged.  
  
"Well, for one, it was your fault she almost got killed by a Mountain Troll, and then it was also your fault that she had an awful at that Yule Ball in fourth year and then it was also your fault for--"  
  
"Okay, okay." Ron said. "I got it."  
  
"Glad to be of service, Ron. But, you know, she's a wonderful girl."  
  
"Have you seen her yet?" Ron asked.  
  
"No."  
  
"Damn, I want to see her in that wedding dress." Ron sighed and ran his hands through his hair.  
  
"I know you do, Ron."  
  
"Harry, could you do one more thing for your single friend one last time?"  
  
"As long as you don't want money..."  
  
"No, no. Could you take a look for me? Tell her that she looks beautiful."  
  
"But how do you know she looks beautiful?"  
  
"Because, she's always beautiful, you know."  
  
"Okay. But, you have to promise to get dressed. Ron, I'm going to kill you if you're not."  
  
"Fine, fine." Ron said standing up.  
  
~-~-~-  
  
"Hermione, how could you fall in love with Ron? He's so, stupid!" Ginny laughed.  
  
"I dunno." Hermione said dreamily.  
  
There was a knock at the door. "Ron, go away, you can't see Hermione!"  
  
"Erm, Ginny, it's me!" Harry said awkwardly. "Is it okay if I come in? There aren't any naked girls in there, are there?"  
  
"Oh, you wish, Harry!" Ginny said, opening the door. "Git." She said, hitting him on the head with her flowers.  
  
"Hermione..." Harry breathed. She didn't look like the sickly girl in the hospital bed, anymore. She didn't look like the bushy haired, bossy, know-it-all that he knew at Hogwarts. She looked, like a teenager, in love. She looked like someone who was confident.   
  
"Harry..." Hermione hugged him.   
  
"Hermione..." He breathed again. "Wow. You're, absolutely stunning."  
  
Hermione blushed. He kissed her on the forehead.  
  
"When Ron sees you, he's going to faint." Harry said, smiling. "The poor git."  
  
"Yes, poor Ron." Hermione smiled. "Poor, poor, Ron."  
  
~-~-~-  
  
"So how's she look, Harry?" Ron asked.  
  
"Beautiful." Harry smiled.  
  
"Good."  
  
"You were expecting different?"  
  
"No, no. I just needed a second opinion."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I'm a nervous wreck, that's why."  
  
"Ron, shush." Harry hissed. "You really shouldn't be talking to your best man while you're up here, you know."   
  
"Damn the bloody rules."  
  
"You shouldn't be cursing on your wedding day either."  
  
"Harry, what are you? The priest?"   
  
"Just a concerned friend."  
  
"Harry--Harry is that her?" Ron's mouth must've fallen all the way to his chest.  
  
"I don't konw, Ron. How many other brides are in your wedding that Hermione doesn't know about?"  
  
"It's her, Harry!"  
  
"Of course it is."   
  
"She's--she's--"  
  
"Beautiful?"  
  
"No, no, more then beautiful. Much more then beautiful. No word could describe--Are you sure tha'ts her?"  
  
"Ron, how many other girls did you propose to?"  
  
"I don't recall, Harry. I don't remember anything anymore. My head's all funny."  
  
"Ron, you have to be quiet now."  
  
"But--"  
  
"Shut up!"  
  
"Okay, okay. Wish me luck Harry?"  
  
"I wish you luck."   
  
~-~-~-~-~-  
  
Ron stood, looking deep into Hermione's eyes, not knowing what to do next. The entire congregation was silent, looking at Ron looking at Hermione stupidly.   
  
"You may now kiss the bride." The priest repeated.   
  
"Wha-what?" He asked, dazed.   
  
Harry laughed. He was so confused.  
  
"Kiss me, Ron." Hermione whispered.   
  
"Oh, right." Ron said, a bit embarrassed. He leaned and kissed her on the forehead.   
  
"You prat." She said. She jumped up and mashed her lips against his, causing an eruption of laughter and applause.   
  
They stood there, a minute, not knowing what to do. It was as if all of their senses had gone numb.  
  
"Well," Ron said. "I guess I'm stuck with you now."   
  
"You bet you are, Ronald Weasley."  
  
~-~-~-~-  
  
Ron sat in his and Harry's apartment. Hermione was supposed to be arriving from St. Mungo's with an Auror, namely Harry. They had to be escorted because people with The Curse tended to attract Death Eaters.   
  
He heard the door open and saw Harry, standing there, with Hermione clinging to his arm, smiling.   
  
"Are you sure you want to live here, Hermione? Ron's a bit of a pig, you know."  
  
"I'm a pig?" Ron laughed. "Do you have any idea what Harry does in his spare time?"  
  
"Oh, shut up, Ron!" Harry said.   
  
~-~-~-  
  
"Where's Hermione?" Asked Harry when Ron took a seat across from him at the kitchen table.  
  
"She's asleep. Awfully tired, she is."  
  
"Right. Er--Ron?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"What are you going to do now, that Hermione's out of St. Mungo's?"  
  
"Well, I thought I'd stay a Healer. Maybe for little kids or something."  
  
"Oh, right."  
  
"Harry, are you in love with my sister?"  
  
"Wha-what?" Harry turned a dark red.  
  
"Ha! I knew it!"  
  
"Ron--I, well--she!"  
  
"Oh, suck it up, Harry. I have no idea what you see in my little sister, but I'd rather she be in love with you then a complete stranger."  
  
"Erm..."  
  
"Right. Well, when does your vacations start?"  
  
"When?" Harry asked. "Oh, tomorrow. But, are you sure that you should be going back to work right after your wedding?"  
  
"Oh, Hermione won't mind."  
  
"You sure?" Harry asked.  
  
"Yes. She's a pretty tolerant girl."  
  
~-~-~-~-  
  
Ron shoved on his Healer robes just as Hermione walked slowly out of their bedroom, rubbing her eyes and yawning. Ron smiled at her as he looked for his bag.  
  
"Where the bloody hell is it?"  
  
Hermione walked back into her room and brought out a brown bag with the initials R.W. on it.   
  
"Oh, right." Ron said, taking it.   
  
"Ron, are you going back to work?"  
  
"So sorry, Love. But duty calls." He kissed her on the cheek. He opened the door and stopped, looking back at Harry. "Harry Potter."  
  
"Yes, Mister Weasley?"   
  
"You take care of my wife while I'm gone."  
  
"Right."  
  
"Harry!" Ron said, closing the door and stiffling back a laugh. "WHat are you still doing in your pyjamas?"  
  
"It's my day off. I'm going to loaf around all day and watch television."  
  
"So, that's what Auror's do when they have vacation time?"  
  
"No, only the famous Harry Potter." Harry said, laughing.  
  
"Right. Goodbye, 'Mione, Mister Potter."  
  
And with that he closed the door.  
  
~-~-~-~-~-  
  
Harry's vacation lasted for two weeks. He kept his word, he really did loaf around and watch television all day. Hermione usually watched with him, looking curiously at the television. She wouldn't talk to him as much as she talked to Ron, but she talked to him, sometimes.   
  
"I have to go back to work tomorrow." Harry sighed. "You won't see me for a couple of months." He said absently during a commercial break.   
  
"Oh." Was all Hermione said. "Harry..."  
  
"What?" He looked at Hermione and noticed that her lips were a sickly shade of blue. "Hermione, are you cold?"  
  
"Yes." She said. "Very cold, Harry."  
  
"Okay, you just stay right there." Harry ran out of the room in search of blankets. "How can she be cold?" He murmured to himself. "It's the middle of July."  
  
He finally found a two winter blanekts Ron had thrown in his closet. He draped them over Hermione, who kept shivering. Harry felt her forehead and pulled his hand away quickly. How could a human being be that hot?  
  
"Hermione, what's wrong? Hermione, what's wrong with you?" He asked.  
  
"Harry..." Her teeth were chattering furiously. She started to murmur something.  
  
"What? Hermione!"  
  
"Harry, what happened to Cedric Diggory? You carried his body out of the maze. Harry, goodbye. I'll see you, come September."  
  
"What?" Harry breathed. She wasn't supposed to remember this. She wasn't! What was going on?   
  
"We have O.W.L's this year..." She was muttering.  
  
"Do you want me to call Ron? Hermione!"   
  
"Ron, you're so impatient. Don't call him Vicky. I can have a pen pal can't I?"  
  
She was getting close to Voldemort. Harry ran into the kitchen and picked up the phone. He called St. Mungo's.  
  
"Hello, St. Mungo's. How may I help you?" A bored witch answered.  
  
"I need to talk to Weasley."  
  
"Which one, Nurse Ginny or the Healer."  
  
"The Healer, hurry!"  
  
"He's in a session." She said. "He said not to be disturbed."  
  
"No, this is an emergency."  
  
"Sir when a Healer is in a session--"  
  
"It's about his wife, God damn it!"  
  
"His wife? Well, why didn't you say so, sir?"  
  
There was a click and then hold music started to play.  
  
"Damn it..." Harry muttered. He kept the phone to hs ear and went back to Hermione who was still chattering away.  
  
"Harry, whats wrong? Harry, you have to tell us what's wrong. Is it Voldemort, Harry? Where is Sirius?"  
  
"Hermione, shut up. Stop talking, you're scaring me! You're not supposed to remember this stuff!"  
  
"Harry, it's so cold. Why is it so cold?" She yelled at him.  
  
"Harry?" Ron's voice was at the other end.  
  
"Ron, it's Hermione, she's--" Harry stopped.  
  
"What? What's wrong with her?" Ron demanded.  
  
"She's repeating things that she shouldn't remember."  
  
"What?"  
  
"She's saying things from Fourth and Fifth Year and she's getting close to where she was cursed. Ron, she's shivering, and the air condiitoning isn't even on. I've put her under all these blankets but she won't stop shivering!"  
  
Ron was silent for a minute. "Harry, get her down here. Now."  
  
"Ron, how am I supposed to--"  
  
"I don't know. Ugh, just get her down here."   
  
The phone went dead.  
  
~-~-~-  
  
Ron hung up on Harry and started to pace back and forth the room. Shivering, high fever, and sudden memory recovery: those were the signs that people under The Curse were having a brain disorder. It was usually how most of the people---died.  
  
"No, she's not going to die. Damn it, Harry, where are you?" Ron ran down to the lobby to wait by the fireplace.  
  
"What are you waiting for, Mister Weasley?" The bored witch asked.  
  
"Mind your business, Irma."  
  
"Yes, sir." The bored witch yawned and wrote something down.  
  
~-~-~-~  
  
"Hermione, we have go to see Ron. You're going to be okay."  
  
"Harry, you need to learn Occlumency..." She muttered.  
  
She was getting dangerously close. "Hermione, come on." Harry threw on the first shirt and pants he could get his hands on. He tucked in the shirt in a hurry and picked up Hermione. He stepped into their fireplace and yelled.  
  
"St. Mungo's, lobby."  
  
~-~-~-  
  
There was a green flame in the fireplace and Hermione and Harry flew out, hacking and coughing. Ron picked Hermione up and dusted off her face. She shivered, her blue lips shaking.   
  
"Hermione? Hermione!" Ron yelled.  
  
"Go to the Ministry? It's absurd. What if Sirius isn't there?" She muttered.  
  
"No, Hermione. Stop! Stop talking right now!"  
  
"You do have a sort of saving-peope thing. Oh, Harry, don't blame me. Harry, don't storm off..." She muttered.  
  
"Ron, what's going on? What's wrong with her?"   
  
"She's, having a thing..."  
  
"A thing? Damn it, Ron! Didn't you go to Medical School?"  
  
"It's a thing, when people under The Curse have an outrageous fever and sudden recover their memory, their brain kind of shuts down. And when their brain shuts down..."  
  
"Ron, no." Harry said. "She's going to be fine."   
  
"You're right." Ron said, unsurely.   
  
"I want to go with you, Harry. I want to help Sirius..." She murmured as Ron picked her up.   
  
~-~-~-~-  
  
Hermione's old Healer stood in the room, his hair now a pure white color. Harry wondered why he wans't retired yet. He sighed and turned to Ron.   
  
"It's hopeless." He said, starting towards the door.   
  
Ron shot up from his seat, and got in front of the Healer, blocking his way towards the door.   
  
"What do you mean it's hopeless?! She's going to be alright!"  
  
"I've witnessed many deaths under The Curse." The Healer said calmly. "She is headed down that path."  
  
"You stupid old--"  
  
"How long does she have?" Harry interrupted him.  
  
"I dunno. Anywhere from one hour to forty-eight hours."  
  
"She's too young! She can't die, she's too young!" Ron argued.  
  
"You are her husband?"  
  
"Yes, but--"  
  
"Then you have yourself to blame."  
  
"What?" Ron asked. "What are you saying?"   
  
"A miserable person with nothing that is under The Curse lives a long, yet miserable life. But, a person who can find happiness, even though they are suffering, they will die early."  
  
"But, why?"  
  
"That is the whole purpose of The Curse. The purpose is to destroy the lives of its victims, in any way it can." The doctor shook his head and left the room, leaving Ron there.  
  
Ron sat at Hermione's bedside, just staring at her, as she muttered things to the ceiling.   
  
"I did this, Harry. It's my fault. If I'd just--"  
  
"Ron, stop." Harry said. "If you knew she would die early if you kept visitng her, would you've stopped?"  
  
"I--" Ron thought for a minute. "No, I wouldn't."  
  
"See? It makes no difference. Ron, even if she dies now, she's lived a happy life."   
  
"How can you say that, Harry? How can you talk about her dying like a positive thing?" Ron asked, he gripped Hermione's hand tightly.   
  
"Harry! Ron!" Ginny called, as she walked into the room, still in her Nurse outfit. "I heard about--Hermione. Is she going to be okay?"  
  
"Of course she is." Ron scowled.  
  
"Ginny." Harry said, standing up and walking over to her. "Ron's in a bit of denial. The Healer said that Hermione could live anywhere from one hour to two days."  
  
"She could die any minute?" Ginny gasped.   
  
"In so many words, yes."  
  
"Ron...." Ginny walked past Harry towards Ron. "Ron, do you want me to call mum?"  
  
"She's not going to die." Ron said, turning away from Ginny.  
  
"I think that's a yes." Ginny said, walking out of the room.  
  
Harry sat down next to Ron. "Ron, I know that you don't want her to die, but, you have to be prepared for the worst. I mean, if Hermione was talking, what would she say now?"   
  
"She'd say, 'Shut up', Harry."  
  
"Ron..."  
  
Harry sat there, looking at Hermione, her eyes staring at nothing and her mouth murmuring memories. He was tempted to clap his hand over her mouth and yell "Shut up! Shut up!" But, he didn't. This was Hermione. He suddenly thought of all the newspaper articles he had been in. He thought of all the sacrifices she had made for him and felt the tears come to his eyes.  
  
"Hermione..." Harry said, touching her arm. She didn't respond. "You know, I--I get this feeling that I took you for granted, you and Ron. I mean, all of those newspaper articles, you were never in them. And when Voldemort was inside my mind, you, never ran away. You never turned your back on me. I mean, you didn't want any credit when it came to the Chamber of Secrets and rescuing Sirius. Hermione, I want you to know, I'm sorry. I'm sorry if I ever back-talked you or ignored you. I'm sorry."  
  
"But we can't see those black things, Harry..." Hermione muttered.   
  
Ron was looking at Harry. "You really meant that?"   
  
"Yes. And I guess, same goes to you, too." He said.  
  
"Harry, you know, you're a really lousy super-hero." Ron said, smiling. "But, you're less lousy as a friend."  
  
"Thanks, Ron." They embraced each other.  
  
"God damn it, you gits just can't get off it, can you?" Ginny asked coming in the room. "I thought you'd got over being gay, Ron, since you married Hermione. And Harry, I'm surprised at you!"   
  
"Damn it, Ginny." Harry said, pulling away from Ron. "You just love coming in at the the exact wrong time."  
  
"Of course I do, Harry. After all, I learned from the best." She smiled proudly at Ron.   
  
"Oh dear, oh dear." Mrs. Weasley said, walking into the room. "Oh dear. What happened?"  
  
"She just started to shiver." Harry explained.   
  
~-~-~-~-  
  
Twenty-four hours. Harry thought, shaking his head. They had been in this room for twenty-four hours. Hermione had stopped muttering, and was now talking to Harry and Ron like they were all in first year. Her memory was back, and no one was sure whether it meant she was going to be alright or she was going to die.  
  
Hermione giggled. "And then you were burping up slugs for the rest of the day."  
  
Ron laughed. "I can still take those slugs, little missy."  
  
She was so full of energy, how can she be dying?   
  
"Oh, oh, remember when Neville tripped and fell on his face?" She laughed.   
  
"He wouldn't get out of bed for a week." Ron laughed.  
  
She would babble on for hours, but Ron and Harry just sat back and listened, knowing each word could be the last. It was as if they were in school again, but there was no homework, no Voldemort, no nothing. They lived in an artificial word of perfect happiness for those two days.   
  
"You know, Ron fancied you since fourth year." Harry said.  
  
"He did not!" Hermione laughed.  
  
"Of course he did!" Harry said. "You'd be surprised how he managed to include you in every conversation we ever had."  
  
"Harry!" Ron said, punching him on the arm.   
  
"Did you really, Ron?" She laughed. "Is that the reason you were so jealous when I went with Viktor the Yule Ball."  
  
"That stupid git had his hands all over you!"  
  
"He did not!"  
  
"He did too! Hermione Weasley, you were there."  
  
"Of course I was there."  
  
Hermione was quiet for a while. She didn't say anything, as if she was recollecting her memories.  
  
"And no one believed Harry."  
  
"About what?"  
  
"About, Voldemort. When he came back." She said quietly.  
  
"Hermione, maybe we shouldn't--"  
  
She laughed a little. "And I said he had a 'saving-people-thing'. I was kind of stupid, wasn't I?"  
  
Ron didn't answer. "Hermione, could you stop talking now? Please?"   
  
"I can't Ron! I just have all these things I remember! I need to talk!"  
  
Harry spoke up for Ron when he went mute. "Go on, Hermione."  
  
"Harry, I think I should tell you. I'm sorry."  
  
Harry looked at Hermione in surprise. "What are you sorry for? You didn't--"  
  
"I mistook your 'saving-people-thing' for kindness. I mean, every human being would have rushed to save their godfather. You did it because your a good person, Harry."  
  
"I--" She was getting so close. "Thank you, Hermione." He smiled at her.  
  
Ron found his voice. "Maybe, maybe you should rest now."  
  
She seemed to think this over a little. "I am a little tired." She said matter-of-factly. "But not a lot."  
  
"'Mione..."  
  
"It was a rush of adrenaline, wasn't it? Fighting Voldemort and all." She smiled. "I remember, I was so scared, I kept clinging to Harry's arm."   
  
Hermione's eyes were wandering, as if she was scoping for her memories.   
  
"And then, Harry did this wonderful, brilliant spell. And then, I was going to congratulate him and then..." She paused and looked at Ron. "And then I saw a pinkish-purple light thing. And then I remember wondering, 'Where is Ron?' "   
  
They were all silent for long minutes. Finally, Hermione spoke up again.   
  
"And then--" Hermione stopped dead and started to laugh like there was no tomorrow.  
  
"Hermione? What's wrong?" Ron asked.   
  
"Oh, it's nothing." She said, wiping a tear from her eye and letting loose another set of giggles. "I remember you and Harry, you were--"  
  
"What were we doing?" Harry asked, feeling in the mood to laugh himself.   
  
"You were dancing together!" She shrieked and immediatly started to laugh again.   
  
"We were not!"  
  
"Yes you were! And then Ginny came in and caught you two on film!" She laughed.  
  
Harry let a small laugh escape.   
  
"Hermione." Ron asked distantly. "That photograph, where did you put it?"  
  
"What photograph?" She asked blankly. "Oh, this one." She reached into her sleeve and pulled it out.   
  
The three torsos continued to wave, just as they did so many years ago.   
  
"I always take it with me." She said, smiling.   
  
Harry looked at the picture and smiled himself, and he saw Ron grinnig happily next to him.  
  
"Look at that red-headed one." Hermione said, the corners of her mouth twitching. "He's got such a dopey smile."  
  
"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Weasley!" Ron exclaimed, laughing.   
  
"But, it's adorable, don't you think, Harry?"   
  
"Not, adorable, I wouldn't call it adorable at all."  
  
Hermione laughed.   
  
~-~-~-~-  
  
Harry lay slouched in the chair, drifting between being awake and asleep. He could hear Hermione and Ron talking and laughing quietly and Mrs. Weasley occasionally laughing at her two children.   
  
"Ron..." Hermione asked. She sounded tired. "What do you think about children?"  
  
"Children?!" Ron's voice squeaked unnaturally. "But Hermione, we haven't, I mean, we've never even--erm--"  
  
"I know." She giggled softly. "But children, they are so beautiful, aren't they?"  
  
"Well, I suppose..." Ron said awkwardly.   
  
Hermione sighed. "I'd like a child someday." She said distantly.  
  
She doesn't know she's going to die. Ron thought. She doesn't know she's dying.   
  
"Someday, love." Ron said.   
  
"You know." Hermione sighed. "Tomorrow seems like a long way away. It feels like I'll never get there for some reason. Stupid, right?" She asked him, closing her eyes.  
  
"Your tired." Ron said. "Go to sleep now."  
  
"Sleep." She said distantly. "Ron..."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Did you know, that I love you?"  
  
"Yes, I did, 'Mione."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"I'm positive."  
  
"Really really sure?"  
  
"I'm so sure that you love me that I think I love you too."  
  
Ron leaned forward to kiss her on the lips on last time.  
  
"That's good." She said.   
  
"Hermione..."  
  
"Ron, I have to thank you."  
  
"For what?"  
  
"For everything, I suppose."  
  
"Everything?"  
  
"Hmm..."  
  
She sighed deeply and smiled. Ron slowly felt her hand stop clinging to his, until he was holding a lifeless hand. He brought it to his lips and let the tears pour.   
  
Mrs. Weasley put her hand on his shoulder, as an attempt at comfort.  
  
"Good night, 'Mione."  
  
"Ron..." She whispered, she sounded so tired.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I'm not crazy. And I never lost faith that I wasn't."  
  
"I know." Ron patted her hand. "Now go to sleep."  
  
Hermione squeezed his hand one last time.   
  
She fell asleep.  
  
FIN. 


End file.
